


Connected souls in a distorted world

by xXx_DiaMoND_TraSh_xXx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Fluff, How Do I Tag, Kidnapping, Kinda, Langst, M/M, Most of the time, Multi, Oh god the tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Lance (Voltron), Polyamory, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, There's A Tag For That, Threesome - M/M/M, lance is bi, no one dies, no one important anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2019-10-17 18:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17566070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXx_DiaMoND_TraSh_xXx/pseuds/xXx_DiaMoND_TraSh_xXx
Summary: Lance was having an ordinary week, a week like any other.Just making his way through a horde of zombies, dodging laser beams from Galra robots and trying not to become enslaved like the rest of humanity, to then meet his two soulmates while stealing from them and a magical, blue Lion which tells him he’s one of the chosen ones, giving him ice powers.Then he needs to save the remainder of the human race with that same lion, his eccentric but cute soulmates and his two dead friends who are apparently still alive and not the undead-alive kind of way.Y’know, the usual.





	1. Connection

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! this is my first time posting something so please don't be too harsh on me!

 

\---

 

Lance quickly ran through the abandoned streets of Plahta city, fastening the grip on his gun, backpack strapped onto his back.  
His footsteps were beating loudly on the concrete and his breathing was erratic, drowning out the sound of laser beams flying around his head.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for the situation he found himself in.  
After three years, he’d still not learned how to be quiet. If he couldn’t talk with his mouth, he’d talk with his body, that’s how it had always been, and Lance cursed himself, discovering it was a habit hard to break.

He turned a corner, nearly stumbling on the rubble littering the dark, small alleyways. When one of the lasers scratched his cheek, he hissed, skin heating up painfully until he could already feel the blisters forming and feel the blood sliding down to his neck.

He’d been searching the ruins, looking desperately between the rubble for a hint of even the slightest bit of food. Even a goddamn snickers would’ve made his day.

Unfortunately, he'd found nothing, and instead of taking it like a man and making a hasty retreat to the dump he called home, he had to stomp his foot in frustration, slip and fall down straight into the wall of a quickly deteriorating building, making it collapse in the loudest way possible. He barely managed to dodge the falling pieces of rock coming his way, before he was quickly attacked by the robots. Why couldn’t he ever catch a break?

He turned around for a second and shot blindly at the killing machines, not having enough time to stand still, aim, and pull the trigger. He hit one, not hiding his grin at the small victory, but two quickly took its place and he cursed, turning back around… Only to come face to face with a rotten corpse lunging for his neck. Shit!  
Its eyes were glazed, the color they had before long gone, instead turned into milky white, letting shivers of discomfort run over Lance’s spine. Its skin was leathery and grey and Lance knew that if he’d try to punch the thing, the skin would easily come off, like peeling a banana. The zombie had a huge gash in its neck, which was oozing a thick, black fluid and although it all happened in just a split second, Lance could see multiple maggots in there, wriggling and moving. It made him sick to his stomach.

He could only nearly escape the impending teeth going for his neck, by grabbing the zombie by its blood-soaked shirt and turning it around. Pulling and tugging until he could kick it right in the stomach and into the robots, causing them to fall over the stupid zombie, now snarling at them.

He didn’t wait to look for what happened next, though; he turned around and focused on dodging the lasers from remaining pods and dodging wreckages in his way.

That’s all this city was. A wreckage. Ruins, full of rubble and remnants of lives long forgotten and lost. And yet he won’t return, he won’t leave this city.  
Lance rejected even the idea of it; where was he supposed to go? Home? His home which was most probably burned to the ground along with everything else? Destroyed, and even if it wasn’t, no one would be waiting for him. His mom wouldn’t be there to hug him, his little cousins wouldn’t be running through the apartment, giggling and laughing, Hunk wouldn’t be there with new pastries he wanted Lance to try, Pidge wouldn’t be smirking at him, new game in their hands as they strutted to his bedroom to play it. He would never hear their sarcasm again, hear their voice, smell Hunk’s pastries, see his bright smile, he would never see his friends or his family again. They were probably all dead. Or maybe undead, who knew these days?

He wished he could forget his past life, forget and move on, but alas he couldn’t.

Instead, he remembered every second of it, clear, as if the life he’d once lived only changed yesterday and not three years ago. He remembered his family going to Plahta to visit Veronica, wanting to congratulate his sister with her new job at the Garrison. It had something to do with space and managing the security and personal at the base or something like that. He hadn’t been very interested in the details at the time, he’d just wanted a piece of the cake his mother had made.

Lance also got to see his friends off, since they’d been accepted into the Garrison; Lance hadn’t been and so he would most probably not be seeing them for a while. He hadn’t been mad over it, disappointed? Yes. Mad? No. Not their fault he wasn’t good enough for the Garrison. He was happy for them.  
That happiness was quickly destroyed, however, when the Galra suddenly descended from the sky in all their purple glory, attacking their planet ruthlessly and without abandon.

Humanity hadn’t seen it coming. Not in the slightest. Cities were quickly overrun and destroyed, armies were pulverized with a single beam of light, humanity was enslaved. There was no hope and as if all that hadn’t been enough, they decided that they would infect their planet. They made a virus, one which turned them against each other. Those infected came to crave flesh, from any kind, from humans or animals, so long as it was alive, they ate it.

He bet the Galra did it because it was easier to wipe them out that way. Infect the rebellious ones of the species, those who will not be enslaved, until they’re undead monsters and let them kill those still alive. It’s fast and efficient. It’s heartless.  
It infected humanity so fast, the ones who were still alive decided it was best to just give up. Better to be a slave than to become a horrific monster with human-eating tendencies, right?

The resistance didn’t give up, however. Lance, together with his family and his friends reached out, searching and contacting them. He got split up from his friends doing so, and later on cornered, along with his family.  
Trying to be a hero he was not, he told them to move on without him, escape to the safe-havens the Resistance had made.

He'd stayed behind, fighting off the zombies as the car with his protesting family drove away, a man from the Garrison (“Iverson” Lance thought his name was) behind the wheel. He later found out through a secret broadcast from the Resistance that all save-havens had been taken over. Everyone in them had been killed mercilessly for resisting.  
After that, Lance stayed on his own, in the city, trying not to affiliate himself with the Resistance or the Garrison (who were, to Lance’s surprise, still standing); they’d tried to get him to their camp once, when they were still doing patrols. He had run away as fast as he could, not making the same mistake twice. Big organizations were trouble, staying on your own was the smartest decision you could make.

A year after the Galra took over, all means of communication was destroyed and the Resistance was completely snuffed out, no trace of them ever existing left. Zombies seemed to rot, but at a devastatingly slow pace, allowing them to run and stay intact longer than any corpse should be able to.

The Garrison stayed strong, though. They had some sort of electric field, making it so that the Galra, nor the zombies could get to them, and they fought back, holding onto the hope, a myth that they heard over an alien broadcast, that Voltron would come and save them.  
Voltron didn’t come.  
You know who did?  
Lotor. An asshole who was even worse than Sendak, pretending he was doing it all for the greater good of reuniting a universe while he probably just got off on enslaving an entire planet.

Lance suddenly saw his chance and turned yet another corner, quickly and easily diving into an already broken window, hiding behind a desk as the pods flew past him, not having seen him duck into the building. He counted to ten, waiting until he couldn’t hear them anymore, before releasing his breath and sighing. Finally, he’d lost them.  
…And he was sitting right next to a corpse.

He immediately aimed his gun at it, knowing it would move any minute now, but when his vision cleared and he pushed away the fear clogging up his mind, he could clearly see she’d been shot in the head a long time ago, brains spilled all over the floor carpet, staining it an ugly brown-red.  
He sighed once again and looked out the window. He didn’t have any choice but to turn back for the day, it was getting dark, which automatically meant retreating, since the zombies often became more active when the sun went down. Lance suspected it had something to do with the heat, since they would also be a lot more active when it was winter and heat often made corpses decay faster and all that stuff.

When Lance stood up, he could feel his legs trembling, stomach clenching painfully around nothing. He knew he should leave this city, there was nothing left to be found here anymore, nothing to hold on to… and his food was running out; he only had about three cans of beans, some energy drinks and energy bars and one can of fruit left. He was rationing his food, but he was still starving and the amount of food he ate in one day wasn’t nearly enough for a guy his age.

He sighed as he climbed back out of the window, keeping low and observing his surroundings closely. He could hear some groaning coming from his right, but luckily for him, he needed to go left and he thanked his lucky stars for it, not in the mood to fight another something.  
The place he called home was a rundown house, set on the outskirts of town and although the neighborhood was sometimes patrolled by Galra robots, he’d never had any trouble with the Galra trying to enter his house or anything like that. That’s another thing Lance found out about them: The Galra robots had some sort of sequence they followed, they never lingered too long in one place and they only came after you if they saw you or if you made a loud sound. The same applies to houses and building, they never entered one out of their own accord.

One time he’d put a tracking device on one of them and after following the robot on his screen for a day, he’d detected a clear pattern the robots seemed to follow if they weren’t disturbed by any outside or distracting factors. Of course, he made use of this, following more robots, noting down their patterns and making a schedule, looking for food when he knew there would be an opening in the patrolling. It made things easier, since it was hard to look out for robots and zombies at the same time.

He often didn’t have many problems with the zombies trying to enter his home either, not when it was spring or summer anyway. They liked the shadows when it was too warm, and the neighborhood where he lived was mostly desert and sand, not many buildings to hide behind.  
Lance shivered in the cool evening air and while he did still look out for any threats from the patrolling robots or aggressive zombies, Lance couldn’t help but think about his ratty, but comfortable couch waiting for him when he returned back home. He didn’t sleep in the beds, he couldn’t. It had just felt wrong when he tried it, and so he’d decided the couch would do. It was comfortable… More so than the floor anyway.

Eventually, he arrived home; save, tired, sweaty and hungry… and utterly and undeniably alone.  
He put down his weapon and his backpack next to his make-up bed and defeatedly walked to the kitchen, holding his cramping stomach and wincing as the loud creaking floorboards emphasized the lack of sound. Ever since the Galra had taken over, infected them, took away people’s freedom, it’s like they took away all the sound as well. Sure, in the beginning, it was chaos, everyone screaming, crying, pleading, gunshots ringing out through the streets and buildings collapsing from the fire and destruction. But after everyone got taken away into the Galra stations and camps, after those who resisted were killed, there was nothing left other than silence, mechanical beeping from dumb robots and groaning from the undead.

Lance hasn’t talked to another human being for two years now. Sure, he’s seen some, but they were either hostile, dying or just plain rude, not even talking to him or just straight up telling him to “fuck off” as they had so delicately said.  
It's not that he really wanted another person around him, they’re too much work: you needed to share food, you needed to keep an eye on them for if they’d stab you in the back, you needed to protect them, help them if necessary. And hey, maybe he’s just nitpicking, but he’s had enough situations with other survivors in the first year of the invasion which has made him lose hope in humanity a little, okay? People did try stabbing him in the back, figuratively and literally.

So, last time he has talked to someone was two years ago, when he still trusted humans. Of course, that did shit to people, having no one to talk to; and so, he talked to himself. It’s just soft mumbling of course, since he doesn’t want to be heard by some stupid zombie, but still, he does it more often than not and he often doesn’t even realize it, mumbling about how he wants to see the beach or listen to music, eat a warm meal with his family. Sometimes he even has full conversations with himself, but let’s not delve into that.

He removed a wooden floorboard, looking into his secret food stash and sighing in relief when he noticed nothing was stolen -he placed his food there in case there’d be someone left in this God-forgotten city who wanted to rob this dump of a house- and took out a can of beans. Most of the time he’d eat half of it in the morning and the other half in the evening, but he hadn’t eaten this morning, hoping he’d be able to find something on his search. He hadn’t, and so it was no wonder he was starving more than usual.

He put back the board and huffed, standing up and getting a spoon from the kitchen drawer. He decided that tonight, he was eating the whole thing; the emptiness in his stomach overwhelming. He didn’t think he’d be able to catch even a wink of sleep that night if he didn’t get a proper meal.  
When he walked back to the living room and sat down, he groaned, feet seeming to throb with pain as he’d been walking on uneven grounds today, his legs protesting just as much.

He shuffled off his run-down shoes and leaned back, head hanging against the back of the couch and feet resting on the little coffee table which stood in front of it.  
Closing his eyes, Lance could feel the exhaustion wash over him; he felt like he could fall asleep right there and then, but he knew he had to eat and his stomach happily reminded him too, clenching on nothing painfully once more, making him utter a sound in between a moan and a grunt. If he didn’t get to stuff his face with a can of beans within five seconds he was going to lose it.

He quickly opened the can and picked up his spoon, immediately forcing a mouthful of beans in his awaiting mouth. Lance was, quite frankly, more than sick and tired of the taste of canned beans, seeing as he’d been eating them non-stop since the invasion, but his stomach strongly objected, seeing the beans as a gift from heaven.  
This was his biggest problem (survival-wise anyway) since the Galra took over: food. He needed it. Craved it. And there was none of it left. Galra had raided cities about a year ago, scavenging for food themselves to give to their human slaves.

Lance visibly quivered just from thinking about it. Human slaves… he wanted to punch someone, out his frustration which had been bottled up for at least three years now. unfortunately, he was the last living soul in this city -that he knew of anyway- and he was not in the mood to punch himself, thank you very much.

He sighed, scraping the bottom of the can with his spoon as he’d already almost finished his meal.  
Either way, food was scarce, and Lance knew that if he’d move to another city, it would be much the same. At least here he knew the city, where to go and where it was too dangerous, which buildings were on the verge of collapsing, he knew the robots their patterns. If he’d go to a new city, he would surely be killed, or worse, captured. But he couldn’t let himself starve either, now could he?  
If only there was an underground base full of food which was loosely guarded by some tired Garrison members… Oh wait! There is an underground base full of food which was loosely guarded by some tired Garrison members! How lucky for him!  
He quickly shook his head, annoyed with himself as he tried to ban the thoughts out of his head, leaning forward to put down his empty can of beans on the table (he was still hungry, by the way).

Lance couldn’t think like that, that was his hungry-self talking, not him, but even if he wasn’t proud that he’d need to steal from the Garrison again, he wasn’t planning to survive the apocalypse, just to die because he was too chivalrous to steal from the Garrison. Nope. He would go tomorrow; He knew their schedules, they’d come looking for food tomorrow morning since it’s been three months now, and they would stay for one day, so until tomorrow evening. Lance would just steal some necessities, such as food and bullets for his gun and sniper, and go back home.

Or maybe he’ll take some more with him, he’s not sure, still debating if listening to your conscious is necessary when you’re living in the apocalypse.  
For now, though, he’ll just lay down, close his eyes and… ow!

A sharp pain went through his cheek as he put his head down on the couch. When he softly caressed a hand over it, not wanting to feel that pain again, he saw blood on his fingertips. Right, he had been hit by that laser beam, had let it scratch his cheek. He’s got to clean and bandage it up, preferably before it gets infected.  
Lance sighed as he stood up and walked to his crappy, moldy bathroom. He didn’t have running water or anything _“water doesn’t run, it flows, it doesn’t have legs”_ he muttered jokingly to himself- but he did have a bucket with rainwater from this morning. Grabbing a clean rag, he dipped it into the water and then carefully proceeded to clean his wound while looking into his broken and dirty mirror. A boy with dark blue eyes and tanned skin stared back at him, covered in filth and grease, although part of it could be from the mirror, Lance wasn’t sure. He needed to take a bath anyway, but he’d do so tomorrow morning, too tired and exhausted to do more than clean his wound for now.

When Lance got a glimpse of his wrist, he flinched, quickly covering it up with his sleeve and grabbing the disinfectant which stood in the mirror cabinet. He’d lost his leather cuffs a long time ago and apparently, Plahta didn’t have a shop for soulmate bracelets. Even if they did, though, they wouldn’t be customized to Lance’s wrist. Eventually, they’d begin to chafe the skin, it would redden and get irritated and so Lance would get irritated. The skin around soul marks was very sensitive to the touch, but even if he hated the way his sleeve brushed over the mark or hated the way a cuff would rub over it, brash and uncomfortable, it was better than leaving them exposed for the world to see. For _him_ to see.

He knew his two soulmates weren’t dead. He hadn’t felt the excruciating pain of a soulmate dying, nor had their names faded to an ugly grey color. No, they were still an obsidian black and a bloodred, each written with a different, but elegant handwriting. Keith Kogane and Takashi Shirogane.

Lance hadn’t ever heard of Keith, but Shiro he knew. He’d read articles about him, seen him on television and stuff, looked him up. He was known to be one of the best pilots to walk this earth and although Lance was over the moon that someone as handsome and talented as Shirogane was his Soulmate, him being one of the best pilots in history had made him that much cooler. Lance looked up to him, wanted to stand by his side and prove himself to be worthy of being his soulmate, which was why he’d wanted to go to the Garrison when he’d been fifteen -or at least partly so, Lance really also wanted to fly and soar through the sky. Free and uncontained… However, they rejected him. Being too carefree wasn’t always appreciated, especially not in the Garrison it seemed.

Not that it would have matter anyway. Shiro had gone to space not even two weeks after Lance had found out that he was his soulmate -so when Lance had been around thirteen- and he had gone missing ever since, nothing to prove when he wasn’t even there to see it. Two years after, the Galra attacked and Lance just didn’t have the time anymore to think about soulmates and all that stuff. Even if Lance had been able to contact him when he’d been thirteen or fifteen, what was he even supposed to say? “Hi! I’m your soulmate, I’m eight years younger than you (and very underaged) and unlike you, I have no flying skills or any skills at all really, but my humor and quick wit will make up for that right?” Nope. Nope-die-nope-nope.

Lance was abruptly torn from his depressing thoughts when he put the disinfectant on his still, slightly bleeding wound, making him flinch and bite his tongue.  
This reminded him of Keith.

The guy got in all sorts of trouble when Lance was young, getting cuts and black eyes almost all the time, his own knuckles hurting even more than all the other bruises. Lance had quickly understood that most of them were from fights. Nothing ever appeared on Lance’s skin, but he could feel the pain in some kind of, vague, dull throbbing sensation.

Lance knew these kinds of connections were rare, only one in ten thousand had them; it was the kind of connection where you shared your pain with your soulmate to elevate it a little and somehow, someway, Lance just knew it was Keith’s pain and not Shiro’s.  
Lance honestly hadn’t had any problems with Keith sharing that pain with him. With no way to know where or who Keith was exactly, he was more than happy to take pain Keith couldn’t handle, but after some years, Lance didn’t feel anything anymore. He knew Keith had gotten the bond under control, not allowing any pain to go through it.

Lance wondered if Keith could feel his pain? Would it put him at ease to know he’s alive, still feeling and breathing? Sure, the words on your wrist and their colors were already there to assure you of that, but Lance knew that feeling your soulmate's pain and feeling they’re alive is different from just seeing and knowing it.  
So, Lance let a little slip through the bond, he didn’t know to which one of the two the bond led to -not like he knew that the pain he’d received when he was little had been from Keith- but he knew it was getting across.

He didn’t receive a reply, though, and he was fine with that. He’d been living in silence for about two to three years now; he was used to it.

~*~

Keith was pacing through the room, frown on his face and arms crossed. Shiro’s eyes followed him, concerned as he then looked at Veronica for any kind of clarification of what was going on. She just kept on looking at her tablet, typing something down. Keith could feel her gaze on him sometimes, though, sharp and calculating, but still strangely amused at his antics as well. James was the only one along with Keith, who wasn’t sitting down, arms crossed and not hiding his annoyance and disdain as he looked at Keith walking through the room.

Keith couldn’t care less, too irritated and angry to give a shit about what he thought. “So, Keith, why did you call all of us here?” Veronica asked, turning off her tablet and lifting a brow. Straight to the point as always. Keith stopped pacing and faced the people in the room. Right, the problem.  
“I want to skip flying practice tomorrow.”

Shiro frowned when Keith gave no further explanation; he knew Keith could often get lost in his own mind, saying what he was thinking and expecting other people to immediately understand his plans and motives, but today he was being even more vague than usual. “You’re going to have to be a little clearer, Keith.” Shiro said, smiling softly at the teen who sighed and rubbed his temples. Keith opened his mouth again, but was quickly interrupted by an annoyed James. “Please, do not repeat what you just said thinking we’ll magically understand, explain why.”

Keith eyed James, obviously irritated by being interrupted, but quickly straightened his back and looked back at Shiro and Veronica. “I need to miss practice tomorrow because tomorrow is when the scavengers will go out to look for supplies and food in the nearby cities. I want in on that.”

Veronica leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “It’s not like I’m against the idea or anything, and it’s not like you actually need the practice since you’re one of the best pilots out there, but -like James said- why? You never go on the scavenger trips, why would you suddenly want to now?”

Shiro slightly canted his head, lifting a brow in curiosity. He got why Keith had called all of them in here; he was the one who trained the pilots in terms of tactics and skills, grading them as they went. He could easily allow Keith to miss a practice without it being an unreported absence. Veronica was in charge of who did what, she made the schedules, decided when the scavengers would hold their trips, arranged meetings and whatnot. She might not go on scavenger trips anymore since the first time, but if Keith would want to go on a mission, he would need her approval first.

“It’s because something has been bothering me for a long time now: L.M. He steals supplies almost every few months, so every time we go on a supply run and he never gets caught, our guards don’t even catch a glimpse of him, nor do the scavengers.”  
“And you think you can?” Veronica asked; there was no sarcasm in her voice, nor any irritation or malicious intent, it was just a normal, inquisitive question. “I think I could capture him, take him down-“

“No, you will do no such thing, if you want to go on the scavenger hunt to capture them so they won’t steal from us anymore, fine by me, but I won’t allow you to kill an innocent person.” Shiro interjected and Keith threw his hands up in the air. “Innocent? He’s stealing from us! Shouldn’t that be, I don’t know, punished?”  
Veronica nodded, arms still crossed and looking straight at Keith. “Of course, but killing them is a little… too much. If you really think you could capture them and if you really want to go on the raid tomorrow as a guard, I’ll make it happen, but no killing. Is that understood, cadet?” The last sentence was said in a strict tone, one which demanded respect. The woman’s piercing eyes bored straight into Keith’s, making the boy drop his head and avert his eyes, uttering a “yes, ma’am.”

“Great, then it’s settled.” She smirked, leaning further back once more.  
Keith, however frowned and looked back up to James, who, after a while, got sick of the cold stare. “What? What do you want from me?”

Keith just kept staring, not moving an inch and Shiro sighed turning towards the confused cadet. “He wants your permission too, you’re the leader of the scavenger team under Veronica, after all.”

James huffed, realizing Keith’s pride stopped him from asking if James was okay with him coming along. “Sure, s’fine by me, just don’t get in the way.”  
Keith’s stare didn’t lessen, but James could see some tension in his shoulders melt away. Shiro sighed, he was sure there was no one in this plane of existence who could get on each other’s nerves as much as they did.

Just as he thought that he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his cheek and he winced, quickly bringing a hand up to it, but when he pulled back, he saw no blood. He pushed on the smarting skin, but it didn’t get any less or worse, it was a steady pain and suddenly Shiro could feel the bond, pulsating lightly with pain and energy. “Lance?”  
He whispered and almost immediately Veronica and Keith whipped their heads towards him, surprising him with the fact that they didn’t give themselves whiplash.

“You’re feeling his pain?” Keith.

“How is he doing?” Veronica.

“Who in the hell is Lance?” James.

Shiro could hear their voices, but he didn’t answer, just relishing in the bond Lance had opened up for a second.

He knew it was Lance. He couldn’t ever feel Keith’s pain and since the only other name on his wrist was his, he knew who it was. When Veronica discovered Lance, her brother, was Shiro’s and Keith’s soulmate, she’d immediately asked if he was still alive, if he was doing okay. He was. He still was, even now, but they didn’t know where he was or what he was doing, finding nothing in the Galra’s info stations or their ships when they went on a mission trying to collect data on them.

On one hand, it gave them hope, hope that maybe he wasn’t captured and enslaved, but it was also despairing. If he wasn’t in one of the Galra bases where they could go rescue him, then where was he? Was he captured by other people? By the rumored cannibals who searched and scanned every city? Was he holed up in some place surrounded by zombies, just waiting to die?

“He’s doing fine, just a cut on his cheek, feels a little burned, probably made by a Galra laser gun. I think he’s putting disinfectant on it.”  
Keith and Veronica sighed in relief, James still frowning, confused.

Shiro just hoped they’d be able to find Lance soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my English wasn't too terrible, it's not beta read and English isn't my first language sooo... sorry if it was hell to read ehehe...  
> I know Lance hasn't really met anyone yet, but I really wanted to build and explain the world they are currently living in.  
> Next chapter, we'll see some Klance!... Kinda?


	2. Captured by your embrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoy this new chapter! Like I said some Klance will happen in this... Well, kinda, they meet so that's something! 
> 
> And like I said in the first chapter, this isn't beta read, and English isn't my first language, so I apologize if some stupid errors made it through my proofreading. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Lance was quiet, making sure each footstep was feathery light, his thoughts collected and breathing calm and even.

He didn't want to stay too long on the main roads, seeing as it would be easier to get caught that way. Sure, he’d checked the schedules for when exactly the robots would patrol this part of the city. He knew that he at least had another fifteen minutes, but it also never hurt to be careful. Plus, the drones' patterns were still pretty unknown to him, never able to put a tracker on the flying things without getting shot at almost immediately.

And zombies didn’t exactly follow some sequence, either. They just shuffled through the empty streets, looking for their next meal.  
A bit like Lance, really.

Lance was jumping from one leg to the other in impatience. He just wanted to get to the subway as soon as possible, his body buzzing with impatience at the thought of food, food which wasn't a can filled with those damn beans.  
But he also knew better than to just run onto the main streets, thinking he'd be fine. A lot of people had died that way. No, Lance knew better. _Follow the steps._  
Hide.  
Scan the surroundings.  
Scan his obstacles.  
Count how many there were.

And then find a way to get around or overcome them.

He was on his way to the Garrison, or at least where they kept their supplies. He’d woken up around the same time the sun reached the horizon, had eaten some of the canned beans and had taken a bath in the nearby creek. It had been cold, but it’d done the trick, since he felt refreshed and awake; all the grease, sweat and dust swept away by the stream… Well, almost all of it, since he didn’t have any soap or shampoo left. 

He’d decided to take his gun with him again, silencer on, of course. He didn’t bring his sniper, knowing he should only use it when he’d have a high vantage point.  
Lance loved his sniper to the moon and back, but he had to be practical, and being practical meant taking his normal gun and his trusty knife with him, along with his backpack.

Lance crouched down in the ally when coming to the main street, peeking behind the wall and scanned the road for any Galra or zombies.  
No Galra, but there was a hoard of zombies coming from his right, at least nine of them, groaning and shuffling through the sheets like they owned it… Which they kinda did. Dammit, stupid zombies thinking they own the streets with their stupid groaning and th-  
He froze when he realized he was thinking out loud again, a zombie to his left making a shrill rasping sound, steadily coming closer.  
It didn’t have any eyes and fortunately, it was missing his bottom leg, more limping towards him than actually walking, but Lance still took a step back, immediately uncomfortable by the thing approaching him.

Most of the zombies were missing some fundamental parts of their bodies by now: their nose, eyes, maybe some limbs. They weren’t as fast as they used to be anymore, either. Their bodies may be rotting slower than the norm, but they were still rotting nonetheless.  
They also didn’t seem to have any enhanced senses like in the zombie-movies he used to enjoy so much; their senses became even worse in Lance’s opinion. Sometimes he’d be making such a ruckus, or he’d be putting himself out in the open so stupidly, he himself was surprised the zombies hadn’t killed him.

Well, not yet at least.

After all, it only took one bite, one tiny little scratch from one of their nails or their teeth, and then it would be over. You’d be infected and dead within the hour.

Or undead, whatever you wanna call it.

Quickly, but quietly, he dodged the approaching zombie and went to the entrance of the underground subway, before the horde could arrive and stop him from doing so. Lance turned on his flashlight while aiming his gun at the subway's entrance. The subway's stairs seemed to come straight from hell, going so far down neither the sun nor the flashlight could reach the bottom.  
Lance could immediately feel his stomach drop. Of course, with electricity being a thing of the past, there was no light anymore to light the darkness and Lance felt like he was staring into the gaping mouth of death, ready to just devour him whole.

He startled when something suddenly grabbed his ankle, stumbling and cursing when his ass hit the hard concrete. He always forgets the last rule, the most important one. _Don't get distracted._  
When he searched for the thing that had grabbed him, gun ready, Lance’s eyes softened, while his heart turned icy cold.  
It had been a little boy that had grabbed his ankle, probably no more than ten years old. His mouth was open in a hungry plea, the one milky eye he had left was looking at Lance with a great emptiness, no longer any kind of window to any soul since it was probably long gone.

Or that’s what Lance believed anyway. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself otherwise, the number of zombies he’s killed too big.  
The boy was missing his legs. In fact, he was missing his entire lower body, organs dragging behind him as he crawled forward, groaning and twisting to get to Lance.

He quickly deleted the image of this being Pidge or Hunk from his brain.

Lance stood up, shot the boy through the head and walked into the darkness of the subway.

It was the least he could do for the kid; Lance would want the same.

~*~

The further down he went, the darker things got; sure, the flashlight made him see, but it also created eerie shadows and the fact that the place seemed to groan and wheeze didn’t help, a cold wind ruffling his short hair.

_Keep calm, focus, it’s just a subway, just the dark, just an absence of light, nothing to worry about…_

_Just don’t think about the zombie behind you_.

He vigorously shook his head. “No, no no no no, shut up,… Stupid thoughts with their idiotic scare tactics, I’m not scared…” he muttered, irritated. Zombies may not like the sun, but they often tended to stay above ground, since that's where their meals were most of the time...

That doesn't mean there are no zombies lurking around corners and hiding from the burning sun.

After a while of hearing or seeing nothing suspicious, he started walking down the steps again. His flashlight seemed to make it worse in some ways; Sure, he could see because of it, but every time he moved the flashlight, shadows seemed to spring to life, following his movements and ready to jump at him. 

He came to the end of the stairs and froze, hearing another ruffling sound behind him; he quickly turned around, seeing no one, again.

“O-okay, i'm f-fi-“

He had to bite his tongue when a rat suddenly skittered between his feet, jumping into the air and almost firing off his gun at the damned animal. “Fuck!”

He followed the rat with his flashlight as it squeaked and hid behind some garbage, disappearing from sight. Lance sighed as he shook his head, deceived by his own mind running rampant again.

_I guess that’s what happens when you haven’t had any kind of stimulation (except trying to avoid laser-shooting robots and brain eating zombies) for at least two years…_

He turned around again, facing where he was supposed to go, to get the very feeling of déjà vu crashing into him.

Literally.

Once again, after turning around, he finds himself eye to eye with a zombie, going, once again, for his throat.   
The zombie slams into him, pushing him to the ground and making him drop his weapon. From what Lance could see, it used to be a woman with sleek black hair. She must’ve been a badass, looking at the shotgun hanging from her back.  
Now, however, she was just another undead.  
Her teeth clacking shut right before the supple flesh of his throat, her nose and lips gone and a hole in her skull, which apparently hadn’t been enough to finish her off, but enough to let him get a good look at how a brain actually looked like -while it was still intact-. Lance was trying to push her off, hands feeling the raw flesh or her shoulders coming off, groaning in effort and fear as he pushed her back and she opened her mouth to reveal a gory mess of blood and things Lance had been better off not seeing -or smelling for that matter, YucK-.

He kicked her off with the leg she wasn’t straddling, and she went skidding over the floor, groaning and grabbing for him along the way. He tried to get his gun, but another zombie was already standing over it, holding a bleeding rat in its mouth, ready to attack Lance anytime now too.

_Time to run!_

Ignoring the zombie-woman making grabby hands at him and the rat-zombie making a lunge for him, he made a roll forward dodging both of them before taking off, suddenly able to hear the shuffling of multiple zombies all around him. _Where did they all suddenly come from?!_  
He began running towards the platform, turning his flashlight here and there to be able to see the zombies and avoid them when necessary.

He had to hold back a scream, though, when his flashlight revealed a zombie, centimeters away from his face; it didn’t even have skin anymore, just muscle, teeth visible in a horrific looking grin.

Lance wasted no time and, just like he did the day before, grabbed the zombie by its bloodied clothes, pushing it into the other zombies, knocking them all down in the process like domino blocks.  
He wasn’t done, nowhere near done; he could see other zombies emerging from the darkness, hands outstretched like a zombie straight out of a cartoon.  
Dead eyes were looking at him from the darkness, more than he could count, wide with hunger, ready to drag him down to hell with them, ready to tear him to pieces. They looked like how he imagined demons looked like, faces distorted and crimson with the blood of their victims.  
If he’d keep standing there, like the idiot he was, he was going to get surrounded in no time... eaten alive, screaming and kicking, he'd die with his own screams echoing in his ears, his mind, they would travel through these tunnels until they'd eventually die out. Just like him.

Why can't he move, again? Why are there so many of them, again? He doesn't want to die.

_I don't want to die like this!_

He needed to move, move move move move-

The feeling of a greasy hand against his neck spurred him into action, running off as fast as he could. He ran in a daze, pushing the monsters away when they got too close and feeling like he wasn't really there anymore. He felt detached, as if he was playing a video game, still scared and cautious, but not as much as he should be, considering his situation. 

When Lance finally reached the subway’s platform, he ignored the stagnate train lying on its side, instead sprinting straight towards the darkness of the tunnel itself.  
He knew that if he turned around, he would see a horde of those things behind him, groaning and trying to catch up to him in their deteriorating bodies. Lance promised himself that he would thank the Gods for the fact that the zombies couldn’t run anymore, as soon as he'd made sure he would live to see another day, that is.

Lance eventually came to a stop, put his flashlight in his mouth and moved away a metal board which leaned against the wall, hiding a ventilation shaft. The board was heavy, though, and Lance was shaking with effort, grunting and keeping in a pained squeal when the board landed on his toes, making a sharp stab of pain go through him.  
Of course, despite the pain, he made haste, knowing the zombies were still right behind him.

Lance took off his backpack and rummaged through it, pulling out a toy police car he’d taken from a toy store a long time ago. He’d figured it would be easier that way to divert zombies' attention if he’d be caged in by them. He turned it on and it made a loud wailing sound, sirens emitting a bright blue and red light, making the zombies groan louder in their want to pursue it. The toy was loud enough to divert the zombies’ attention, but not loud enough to attract other zombies from above or further away. It was perfect.

Lance threw the toy in the opposite direction from where he came -so when he’d come back the zombies wouldn’t be blocking his way- and then stepped into the hidden ventilation shaft.

However, getting the board back in place took a little longer and that, together with the approaching zombies, drove Lance nuts with nerves; he couldn’t even stand in the ventilation shaft, which made it that much harder to put back the board.

He felt like he was playing a goddamn horror game on nightmare mode.

When the board squeezed his fingers between it and the walls of the ventilation, Lance once again held back a screech of pain as he yanked his fingers away, but not before closing the entrance entirely. He stuck his throbbing fingers in his mouth like a child, tears forming in his eyes from the pain.  
“mfhy dfoes dhtis alwas hapfen toh meh.” He muttered quietly, words muffled by his fingers. He immediately got quiet though as he heard the zombies shuffling by the ventilation, not moving a muscle as he listened to the zombies, eventually leaving the secret ventilation board alone to get to the toy.

There were even more of them than Lance had originally thought.

Lance sighed in relief and sagged against the cold, metal wall, heart still hammering in his chest. He hated this. He’d been in worse situations than this, but every time he encountered one of those things, it made Lance quiver with fear, thoughts like,  _“what if that had happened”,_ or, _“What if you hadn’t done that, the exact same millisecond you did it?”_ echoing loudly through his mind.

He couldn't let himself freeze up like that again; if he had snapped out of it any later than he had, he would be dead by now, eaten alive...

He went rigid as he suddenly realized something; he hadn’t had the time to think about it, but he'd lost his gun out there! And it had a silencer! Do you know how hard it was to get that? Going through a horde of zombies and tearing it out of a dead one’s stomach is how hard it was!  
Lance almost wanted to groan like a zombie in frustration but stopped himself at once. He did _not_ want to attract their attention right now.

He quickly moved on, reasoning he could get it later when he came back, and crawled through the shafts as he was urged by the always present pain in his belly and his filthy hair – no matter how many times he washed it with water, the grease and itchiness would just not go away without some of that wondrous thing called soap.

Lance, finding he couldn’t see far enough with the flashlight, brightened it.  
He loved this flashlight; it was the coolest flashlight in the world -or at least in Plahta- with different kinds of settings for how bright you wanted the light and even a disco mode!  
Unfortunately, how cool it may be to have a flashlight this fabulous, he was on his last batch of batteries and looking at the state of the city, he would probably no longer find any supplies here.

Many people who had been able to keep under the Galra’s radar had long left the city, fleeing to the Garrison or another city with more resources, but not before raiding the city for all its worth and that was _before_ the Galra had decided to scavenge the last bits of food and goodies left. There really was nothing left here.  
He knew he’d have to steal more than food from the Garrison, again… Batteries, toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo…  
He also knew he’d best not steal too much of their stuff, since he really must be getting on their radar by now.

He hadn’t been all that inconspicuous the first time either, knocking out the guards in a fell swoop and even leaving a thank you card with his initials written on it, L.M.  
He couldn't help himself at the time, he’d been able to steal from a place even the Galra couldn’t get into, didn’t that deserve a bit of recognition?

No, it didn’t, Lance knew that now, but back then, his fifteen-year-old self had been too egotistical to see that.

He hadn’t only stolen food from the last standing base on the earth, he’d stolen food from hard working people, people who deserved that food, those supplies, way more than him. He was nothing more than a thief, but it was that or starve and Lance wasn’t ready to die yet.

He crawled his way through, further and further, and as he kept following the white line he’d once drawn with a piece of crayon, he finally found his way out.  
He always forgot this, but unlike from where he’d entered, the ground by the exit wasn’t all that close to the ventilation.

He fell forward, screaming in surprise and grunting when he hit the uncomfortable concrete. Again.

“That’s five times in two days now. Five times I’ve had bad luck. Why are you doing this to me Lady luck? Do you want to tell me something? Don’t you love me anymore?”

He waited for a second but sighed as he didn’t get an answer. He was so exhausted and mentally drained, he couldn’t even keep up with his own stupid jokes anymore.

Following the train tracks, he found the Garrison's cargo train; it was the only train still standing on its rails and was clearly taken care of, cleaned of blood and rust.

Once in a few months, the Garrison would take this train to Plahta city and then take their trucks to go and scavenge different cities nearby, looking for supplies and food. After that, they would load them onto this train and deliver them to the Garrison.

Strangely enough, though, Lance couldn’t see anyone. Normally, the scavengers -four weird teenagers- would go off for the day to search the cities up above, while at least two other guards -which were two tired, old men most of the time- would stay behind and protect the train.  
No one was here, though, and it made Lance suspicious immediately.  
He turned off his flashlight, not necessary anymore as he could see plenty in the dim emergency lights -which were apparently still going after being on for three years. Or maybe they only went on when a train came in?

He sneaks around the train, wanting to make sure the guards weren’t outside like they usually were, laughing or talking to each other.

No one. Were they inside? Why would they suddenly break routine, though?

Lance went back to the other side of the train, where a ladder was firmly attached to its side. He grabbed the ladder and climbed up, quietly and carefully, not wanting to make any kind of sound. If the guards were inside, taking a break or something, he’d have to make sure to sneak by them, and them hearing some weird banging on the outside of the train wasn’t going to help him with that.  
On top of the train, he saw the familiar hatch that led inside. Carefully, he crawled towards it and pulled it open as quietly as he could, flinching when it creaked way louder than before. Right, this time the chattering of those two old men wasn't there to cover up the many mistakes he made when doing this.  

Despite just thinking that and this being a stupid idea, Lance stuck his head in first to see if there was anyone inside. No one, not even a sound to be heard. He frowned and carefully jumped down, hitting the ground with a hard slam which reverberated from his ankles all the way to his hips. _Owch_. He could’ve done that a little more careful.

Why was he like this, again?

“Take it slow, don’t hurry, keep calm.”

The train was eerily quiet, more so than usual, and he didn't like it one bit, feeling even more on edge than before.

He went left, to the end of the train, where they kept their food and supplies most of the time. All the way, Lance met no one.  
The train’s lights were also out, making him use the vague red emergency lights from outside, which gave everything a scary, demonic kind of feeling... As if he wasn’t supposed to be here...

Lance had a bad feeling about this, a very, very bad feeling. It made him look back constantly, arms hugging himself as he walked further into the train.  
He felt like he was being watched. He tried to tell himself it was just the adrenaline from before, still coursing through his veins, ready for a fight.  
He knew it wasn’t.  
When he entered the last cabinet, seeing all the supplies, he didn’t even feel any form of victory, just guilt and paranoia.  
But, instead of letting those feelings consume him, he opened some of the cooling packs and boxes and began looking for what he needed.

He couldn't help but grin when he found some of that beautiful fluid called shampoo and oh! Was that chocolate?! _Oh my God!_ He could finally know how chocolate tasted again! He- No.  
He wouldn’t steal more than necessary. Shampoo, canned beans, fruit, tomatoes, maybe a pack of spaghetti, bullets, disinfectant, toothpaste, toilet paper! Thank heavens!  
When his backpack was fully filled, Lance stood up, chest filled with guilt, but also happiness as he’d have food for a few weeks once again.

His paranoia was completely forgotten.

He immediately paid the price for that.

He turned around… and he was really goddamn sick of things lunging at him every time he did. He dodged as a hand reached for his neck -again!?- and without even looking for who -or what- it was that had attacked him, he went for the exit. He could almost feel their breath on his neck as they chased him. Lance was exponentially slowed down by his filled bag and he cursed, he really didn’t want to leave it behind, but if it was to save his life…  

_Shit shit shit shit shi-  
_

They grabbed him by the collar just before he could get to the hatch and pulled him to the floor, flinging the bag off of him and locking his arm behind his back. Lance's attempt to stand up and resist his attacker was quickly put to a halt by the person sitting on top of him, straddling Lance with their full weight, and almost suffocating him while doing so.

“Who are you? Why are you stealing from us?!”  
It was a guy, and although Lance wanted to roll his eyes at his stupid questions, a witty answer already on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill, he didn't, _couldn't_ , instead he tried to get out of the guy’s grip, too panicked to do anything else, really.

_What was he supposed to do? Was the guy going to kill him? After all that he’s gone through it isn’t even a zombie that kills him, but some random dude? Why didn’t he realize earlier this was a trap?!_

The guy sighed irritated and pulled up Lance’s arm, making him yelp at the pain that went through it. “Answers! Now! Are you a Galran spy?”  
Lance frowned and almost laughed at the accusation. He? A spy for the Galra? Ha! He’d rather die.  
He didn't, though, instead he tried to explain himself, seeing as being viewed as a Galran spy wouldn't work in his favor.

“N-No! I’m not! L-Look, I’m hungry, okay? A man’s gotta eat, and you’ve got all the food, so really, it’s a given someone would try to steal some of it, y’know? I’m probably not the only one!” The guy remained silent at his rambling before his hold on Lance’s arm strengthened in grip.  
”Name.”  
“Look, dude, I’ll give everything back, okay? Just don’t kill me or anything! I’m really sorr-“  
The boy suddenly moved forward, pulling Lance’s arm a little higher too, making him whimper. The guy’s voice was filled with anger and irritation when he spoke next, but… there was also some kind of desperation that made Lance twist his head to see the boy better, only catching a glint of pale skin and dark hair. “Name, now.”  
Lance gulped. Should he use a fake name? Was the guy so adamant to know his name because of the card with his initials he’d once left behind? Did he want to punish the one who left the card?

“Katy Perry.”

It was out before he even knew it. The guy was quiet for a while before clearing his throat. “…Your real name.”  
The guy sounded irritated, but weirdly amused as well. Although still in a kind of repressed kind of way.

“Who says that isn’t my-“ Lance’s next words were stopped by a sharp pain coursing through his arm, making him shriek and slam his free hand into the ground multiple times in pain and frustration. "Owowowowowwwww~ Let go!"

Lance sighed in relief as the guy stopped, pulling back a little, and swallowed nervously, trying to bury his face in the ground, painful, but not as painful as his embarrassment. "What. Is. Your. Name?"

“Micheal Jackson… What? That’s- Ow ow ow ow owch! Stop, stop I’ll tell you, you’re going to break my arm, please!”  
The pain stopped and Lance almost cried in relief. “My name is Lance! Lance McClain! Please stop the torture, I don’t want to die!”  
The silence that followed was endless and Lance began to shift uncomfortably on the ground. Minutes seemed to drag by and just when Lance wanted to say something about it, he yelped as he was suddenly lifted up -it did _not_ sound like a girl, just to make that clear-.

Before he knew it, he was pushed into one of the train’s seats, the boy still holding onto his right arm.  
Lance did not hear the clicking sound. “Dude, what the hell are you doing, just take what I stole from you and then I’ll be back on my way, I won’t bother you anymo-“

Lance tried to stand but something on his wrist stopped him. When he looked down, he was cuffed to one of the train’s grabbing rails. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Dude. You can’t just-“  
“I can, just did, and don’t say it’s not deserved, you stole from us, multiple times. Giving back what you stole _today_ won’t even that.”

Lance looked at the guy and drew in a surprised breath as their eyes met, his vision zooming in on that beautiful purple-grey color, his new favorite color.  
His world suddenly seemed more colorful too, and Lance felt as if he was engulfed by clouds caressing his skin, adrenaline coursed through his veins as his world shifted to this one boy and…

Oh. No. no no no no no. Nooo~pe.

Lance’s eyes widened, and he quickly diverted them, looking back at the cuffs. He pulled on them more fervently than before, even pulling out his knife, but before he could do anything with it, though, the boy stopped him… Or should he say _Keith_ stopped him? _  
_Lance quickly pushed him off, but not before Keith could take his knife.

“No no no no, get away from me! Let me go! I’ll give you whatever you want, but please let me go! I have a family back home, a dog, a cactus! You can’t take me with you! Those things need water!”

Keith seemed taken aback by his reaction -He looked hurt?- but the expression disappeared as soon as it had appeared and a scowl quickly took its place. “You’re coming with us, end of discussion, _Lance_ , I don’t care if you want to or not.”  
With that, the boy turned around and walked away, not looking back and- was that a fucking _mullet_ Lance saw?

~*~

Lance sat there for about… Meh, he doesn’t know how long it was, but it felt like hours. He felt kinda empty. He just met his _soulmate_ , something he’s dreamed about for _years,_ and it was in this kind of situation? While stealing from him? While he’s been stealing from him for years? Not the most ideal or romantic setting, if you’d ask him. Not that it mattered in which kind of setting it happened. It wouldn’t have mattered if they’d have had rose petals surrounding them, beautiful candlelight illuminating the room and the delicious dinner before them.

People to care for is not an advantage in this world, it’s a hindrance, a disadvantage; he may have dreamed about his soulmates since he was but a mere young boy from Cuba, but that didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t need them, didn’t _want_ them. They’d only get hurt, and Lance wasn’t ready to feel that pain again. The pain of losing everything you care for, because that’s what a soulmate is. It’s your world, you’d do anything for them, for their happiness, and that with the snap of a finger, with a simple thing such as eye contact, one single touch could have you on your knees, worshipping someone you didn’t even know.

He knew he’d only felt part of that feeling, Keith hadn’t touched his skin yet, his _mark_. Lance would’ve been done for if Keith had accidentally touched that Godforsaken mark.

Lance wondered if Keith had known Shiro before his disappearance. Had he only joined the Garrison when the apocalypse hit, or had he been at the Garrison for longer? Had they been in a relationship? Lance didn't think so. Keith looked around his age, which meant he'd have been underage as well when he met Shiro.    
Lance's wrist hurt, the cuff nothing less than uncomfortable on his mark. _Keith’s mark._ Lance knew that wasn’t the only reason it was hurting, _itching_. It was begging for Keith's touch, it wanted to complete this bond they had, wanted to feel whole.

Well, no thanks, not happening.

He had one on each wrist, his left had Shiro’s and his right had Keith’s.  
Lance wondered on which wrist his name was engraved.

Lance was torn out of his thoughts when he heard the train doors open. Guess he was right, he had been here for more than a few hours. The scavengers had returned and they only came back when the sun went down. Lance had arrived before midday.  
He’s so fucked. He needed to get out of here and now!  
He began to pull on the cuffs again, despite knowing it wouldn’t make any difference. His wrists ached, soul mark burning even more because of the constant friction. He stopped his ridiculous pulling when he saw a girl standing in the opening of the doorframe. She had glasses on, dark skin, and brown hair. Her eyes were piercing and Lance could see an intelligence in them he’d only ever seen in his sister, Veronica. That hurt.

She was smiling. Laughing at him. “So, you’re L.M, huh? I expected you to be a little more … Less you?”  
Lance frowned, but couldn't bring himself to answer her, instead going back to the cuffs. It’d been a long time since he’s last had human contact -besides Keith, who didn’t count- and he’d lost his touch when it came to normal conversation. “Who’s this?” Another girl asked, this one had short hair and blue eyes, face littered with freckles. Lance looked around, again, for anything he could use to pick the lock. “L.M., you know, the one who keeps stealing the food we scavenge and almost die for, so we can feed our people?”

Lance stiffened and turned back around in a flash, sheepish smile on his face and guilt filling his chest. “Well, you see, I uh-“  
“Don’t talk to the thief.” Keith’s hard voice sounded through the room as he stood behind the girls, arms crossed and -as Lance had figured out was a constant-  
trade-mark scowl on his face.

“Keith, where are James and Kinkade?” The brown-haired girl asked.  
Lance flinched at his soulmate's name, Keith and the blonde girl noticed. “They’re loading the last of the supplies, but told that Ina could already start up the train.” Keith’s short reply came. The blonde girl tore her eyes away from Lance, nodded once at her teammates and went to the front of the train, walking by him as if he wasn't even there.

“Do I need to guard blue-eyes over here?” The other girl asked, nodding to the cuffed boy. Keith just eyed Lance for a second -an incomprehensible look washing over his face, making Lance want to reach out somehow- and shrugged, turning around. “Do whatever you want, either way, he isn’t getting out of those cuffs.”

And just like that, Mr. Mullet man disappeared from sight. Lance scoffed at his disappearing back. That brat is his soulmate? They’re going to get along great! Sike.  
He frowned and shook his head. Stop thinking about it. It doesn’t matter that Keith is his soulmate, what matters is escaping from this train.

The girl gasped and Lance stiffened. She was looking at him with big eyes and her hands were clasped before her mouth.

He’d talked out loud again…

_Shit._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was kind of disappointed with this chapter since I really wanted Lance to meet Shiro and his Blue Lion and I wanted him to get along with Keith and all that stuff, but I also want to take it slow. I don't want to rush this story. I want it to happen naturally, for Lance to learn how to trust again and for Shiro, Keith and his friends to help him with that... so yeah. 
> 
> Slow burnnnn yeee.


	3. Together we're alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellow!  
> Finally, the new chapter is out! Hooray!  
> This chapter we're going to see some of Keith's insecurities and how he got them, a little background on his and Shiro's relationship and!! Lance is going to meet Shiro! Well, it's only for a little bit, but still!
> 
> I actually had to re-write this chapter a heck of a lot; I was never really satisfied with what I wrote until yesterday..  
> and although it's still not entirely to my liking, I really just wanted to post this and get to the good stuff!
> 
> But anyway, I'm sorry if there are some stupid mistakes!  
> Enjoy reading!

Keith had always heard that the most important time in a soulmate’s life was when they’d meet their other half; that moment shaped their relationship, how they’d see each other, how strong their bond would be.

Keith had fucked that up miraculously well.

Shiro would've probably scolded him if he were there, tell him he should’ve handled this more delicately, with more care, instead of rushing in on adrenaline and pushing Lance to the ground like an animal.

But Keith had panicked, okay?

He’d seen the thief jump for the hatch and he’d just… Panicked for some reason. Maybe he’d known deep down the guy was his soulmate, maybe he just hadn’t wanted the thief to escape. Maybe it was both. 

Either way, Keith was not doing well.

He’d found the one who was supposed to complete him. The one who was supposed to complete his and Shiro’s relationship. The one who was supposed to fill that empty spot he and Shiro had every time they cuddled, kissed, had sex.

Lance was supposed to fill that empty space in his heart Shiro couldn’t reach.

And he had.

Just by looking into his eyes, Keith had felt butterflies in his stomach, his world had shifted, once again, to one single person and Keith hadn’t even touched his mark yet.

For some reason, it felt even more powerful now, as if finding his second soulmate was everything he needed in life. Keith had found his life’s purpose when he met Shiro, but now he’d finally found a way to complete it.  
Unfortunately, he hadn’t realized this soon enough.

He’d felt a pull to the thief, watching from the shadows as his soulmate, clothed in bloody rags and leather pants, had made his way through their train, quietly and carefully.  
But at the time, Keith hadn’t known that, he’d thought nothing more of the boy than that he was a thief stealing their hard-earned food. He’d pushed him to the ground, put his arm in a lock and had questioned him ruthlessly; only when he heard Lance’s voice had he known something was wrong.   
He’d asked for the guy’s name, wanting- no, _needing_ to know how the thief was called and although his attempts to lie were cute, it wasn’t much appreciated.

And, of course, the thief who had been stealing from them for months, the thief he had pushed to the ground, the thief he’d put in one of the most painful locks he knew, almost breaking his arm, was his _fucking_ _soulmate_.

And when he’d looked into those beautiful ocean blue eyes, Keith had felt as if he’d been drowning; and he’d liked every second of it. He wanted Lance to drown him, intoxicate Keith with everything he was, everything he would give him.  
Keith wanted to bury himself in the crook of his neck, smell him, touch him, see him and never let him out of his sight again.

Lance did not want the same.

As soon as Lance had felt the bond, felt it strengthening just from them being close, saw Keith’s soul through his eyes- he’d tried to escape, run away from Keith and all he embodied, and who could blame him? The first thing Keith had done to his soulmate was hurt him.   
Still, he had been surprised by Lance’s reaction. The blue-eyed boy had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with him, and Keith, being the socially awkward guy he was, had responded in kind, leaving Lance tied up and alone.  

In reality, though, he’d wanted nothing more than to talk it out.  
He wanted to untie Lance and sit next to him, have a conversation with him, get to know him. He wanted Lance to meet Shiro, wanted them to get along, but what if after that conversation, after spilling all his feeling in a big gush of honesty and trust, Lance still wouldn’t want to be their soulmate?

Keith knew more than all, that above the pain of hunger, the pain of losing an arm or the pain of never getting accepted, never belonging anywhere, was all nothing compared to the pain of losing someone. And this world was filled with that kind of hurt.  
One moment your loved one would be standing next to you and the next they’d be gone, they’d have abandoned you, whether it be because death called for them, or because you weren’t good enough to keep them by your side.

Love hurt, and in this world, it was hard to change that, even more so with the apocalypse.  
Shiro had, though.  
He had before the apocalypse and he had done so after, when he’d come back after disappearing for a year.       
When Keith had been a young boy, mom long gone and his dad dead, he had had no one. No one to lean on, no one to support him when he got into one of his fights, he had been utterly alone, abandoned by everyone he knew. He had been so sad, and he had expressed that sadness in rage, had let his emotions run free at the slightest of setbacks. No one would be disappointed, no one would care, no one important anyway… and then, suddenly, Shiro was there.

He’d come to his school to take some tests for the Garrison, and even though Keith had heard his full name when he’d introduced himself, he hadn’t immediately acted upon it. In fact, he had completely avoided Shiro and his eyes the entire time he was there.  
He hadn’t trusted something as feeble as soulmates, something everyone always thought of as the strongest possible bond in existence- If that was true, then why hadn’t it been enough to keep his mom by his father’s side?

Shiro would see him, see him as a dumb, underage boy with anger issues and abandon him, and so would his other soulmate. Shiro didn’t do that.   
Keith hadn’t realized it at the time but apparently, Shiro had known Keith was his soulmate, and that he had been residing in that very class. It was one of the reasons why he’d been so adamant to advertise the Garrison and go scout for those talented enough to join.  
He’d wanted to see what kind of person Keith was, wanted to know his history, wanted to know everything he could about the young boy.

After discovering all of these things, Shiro had been even more determined not to leave Keith, instead recommending him to the Garrison, where he could help him refine his already amazing abilities, while also keeping an eye on the boy and help him grow and trust once again.

They got to know each other, discovered they shared the same missing soulmate, that Shiro could feel Lance’s pain and Keith could feel Shiro’s. Keith discovered his soulmate’s favorite food, his favorite color, what he liked to do in his free time, that he liked it when Keith was happy and smiled or laughed.

The boy eventually let his defenses down and when that happened, he’d immediately fallen head over heels for the kind older man, wanting to be by his side every second of the day.  
Unfortunately, Shiro was seven years older than him and when Keith had wanted more than to hug, more than to cuddle when they’d watch a movie or when they went to sleep, Shiro would thoroughly tell him he needed to wait until he was eighteen.

It had frustrated him to no end, but he knew Shiro was right. Keith had been too young, his concept of love too different from Shiro’s, and he had been pushing himself to give things he was too young to give; because that’s what was supposed to happen in healthy relationships, right? He’d seen it in multiple movies, couples who kissed and did strange things in bed. He’d seen it at the Garrison too, but Shiro assured him that it could wait, that he wouldn’t abandon Keith just because he couldn’t give him that yet.

He’d cried then, he’d never heard anyone say that to him, that they wouldn’t abandon him.

However, after a few years, Shiro _did_.

Keith hadn’t understood it back then, he’d been angry at Shiro, for lying to him and being like everyone else.  
But he’d also been disappointed in himself, disappointed because of the fact that he hadn’t been enough for Shiro.

Eventually, when he grew up, he knew it wasn’t his fault, nor was it Shiro’s. His soulmate had disappeared in space, against his will, nothing Keith could have done to prevent that.

The Garrison, however, believed Shiro had died, not thinking it possible to just disappear in space without a trace and still remain alive. They didn’t believe Keith when they saw his mark, still the same obsidian black it had always been, instead turning a blind eye. What else could have happened to Shiro and his missing crew except for that they had died?

When he dug into the case, going through documents he wasn’t supposed to go through and kept insisting that Shiro was still alive, they banned him, telling the rest he dropped out because of the death of his soulmate.

He lived in that shack outside the Garrison for a year, believing his missing soulmate would be back someday. And he’d been right, Shiro did return to him, alive and breathing, but before his return, there was a lot of pain and fear; all of which wasn’t Keith’s.

Just like when he’d been little, when Shiro had still allowed pain through their bond, he felt his pain once again.

Only now, it was excruciating.

He felt the loss of Shiro’s arm like it was his own and Keith could still remember how he’d cried for days without end.  
He could still feel how bones were broken and healed at an unnaturally fast pace, hurting even more after, and Keith had often felt like he was getting hit by a brick wall, or like he’d fought a monster or something, but nothing ever showed on his skin.  

He monitored the Garrison’s radios, hoping for some kind of message from Shiro. The only thing he kept hearing, however, was some weird gibberish and the word “Voltron”, often accompanied by “savior”, or something along those lines.

He couldn’t care less about it when Shiro came back to earth after a year of being missing. He appeared in some weird white spaceship, together with two aliens who had saved him, named Allura and Coran, and the missing Samuel Holt, the Garrison’s top engineer.

Apparently, Shiro had been kidnapped by an alien species named ‘Galra’ and then after a year of being locked up and interrogated, he escaped along with the help of his crew member: Samuel Holt. Shiro had described the Galra as ruthless, they would do anything to conquer, anything to win, their motto even being “victory or death”.

However, after their dangerous escape, their pod had been severely damaged, floating through an endless void of space without showing any signs of ever arriving at its final destination.  
They would’ve died if it hadn’t been for Allura.  
She had seen their distress beacon and after seeing they weren’t Galra, she had taken them in without question.  
Something for which Keith would be eternally grateful.

Upon arrival, they immediately warned the Garrison about the aggressive alien species coming earth’s way. It seemed that the Galra had already conquered almost two-thirds of the universe and were now apparently ready to do the same to earth. It was hard to convince the Garrison in the beginning but having two aliens along with an enormous, white spaceship with them helped.

The Garrison made plans to defend themselves with the help of Mr. Holt and the two aliens, who knew some things about alien technology and how they could mend it with human technology.  
They made a particle barrier strong enough to hold back the alien laser beams and even began training new cadets to fly the new and improved battleships.

They were short on manpower though, and weren’t nearly as ready as they wanted to be for what the Galra had in store for them. But, despite that, they were all ordered to not tell a soul about what was coming; humanity was not to know anything, in case they’d cause an unnecessary widespread panic.   
Mr. Holt had had different ideas about that, though, he’d wanted to tell everyone, gather everyone’s forces so they’d at least have a fighting chance against the monstrous species coming their way.

But he was being put under house arrest. He was barely allowed to contact his family, he wasn’t even allowed to explain to them what might have happened to their son and beloved brother, Matt Holt, who was still out there somewhere.

Meanwhile, Keith had visited Shiro by sneaking into the Garrison. Shiro, of course, had been disappointed by Keith being banned from the Garrison while he’d been gone, but convinced them of taking Keith back in.  
Keith was just surprised by how much Shiro had changed. His usual black, mat hair now had a tuft of white in it and he had a big scar over the bridge of his nose. Plus, he had a robotic arm, something that reminded Keith of the pain they both went through when the older man had lost the original.

His appearance, however, wasn’t what had bothered Keith; Shiro had looked good, different, rougher, but still handsome, maybe even more so.   
No, it was his personality that had changed.  
He was still kind, he still loved Keith and still supported him, but it was like he’d built a wall around himself. Instead of saying the things he thought, his bothers, his problems, he pushed Keith away from him.

Keith didn’t like that one bit; he hadn’t seen Shiro sleep even once since he came back, something he used to see so often.  
And that’s because Shiro hadn’t slept, nightmares plaguing him whenever the traumatized man closed his eyes. When Keith had discovered this, he stuck to him like glue; he ate with him, slept next to him, comforted him when he’d have one of his episodes.  
And although Shiro put his guard down around him a little more, he would never talk about what had happened to him out there, or what had happened to his arm.

A year after Shiro’s return, the Galra did attack, and humanity was _not_ ready.

They didn’t stand a chance, those who resisted were slaughtered and those captured were quickly enslaved and divided into three groups.   
The supposed geniuses of our planet were the first group, gathered because of their intellect and the fact that they could make and improve Galra weapons. They were quickly loaded onto a Galra ship, never to be seen or heard from again.

The second group was labor. Everyone deemed strong enough was sent to this group and were ordered to build weapons and stations for the Galra.

And the last group was the reason the Galra took over their planet in the first place.

Quintessence.

All those who were left, were sent to go down to the deeper parts of the planet and ordered to extract this Quintessence thing, which, after a lot of hacking into Galra databases, was discovered to be our planet’s energy.  
The thing that kept everything going and living.

And the Galra wanted to suck that right out of our planet.

The Garrison wanted to do something, save the trapped humans, free our planet… But the only thing they had was their particle barrier, an unfinished battleship and some other pods which just stood no chance against the many fleets of the Galra.

There was no hope.  
Not until Allura told them about Voltron, anyway.

Voltron apparently existed out of five magical lions who could link their energy to five chosen paladins, making those chosen ones more than they were and everything they could otherwise never be.

They could also transform into enormous robots, so there’s that too, of course.

Unfortunately, Allura had no idea where the other Lions were, except for the Blue Lion who was stationed in a hidden cave nearby the Garrison, and who still hadn’t chosen its partner.

Allura had originally wanted to come to earth because she had detected the Blue Lion’s energy coming from their planet. Even back then, she hadn’t been able to find the other Lions, she knew they were out there somewhere, but she just couldn’t pinpoint their location. She was particularly worried about the Black Lion, the feeling of her existence so vague, Allura wondered if she was even operational anymore.

But anyway, they couldn’t form Voltron and so, they’d been back at square one. Eventually, their situation became even worse, the Galra infecting their planet with a virus which turned everyone into flesh-eating monsters.

It hadn’t been pretty, and Keith and Shiro had been worried sick for their third soulmate, who’d been out there all alone.   
And now that they had finally found him, after all that worrying, he didn’t even want them.

Keith had tried earlier to talk to Lance again, but he hadn’t been able to, seeing him pull on his restraints like a madman... It hurt to see his own soulmate try to get away from him like that, and so he hadn’t said anything, he'd just kept standing there behind the wall, listening to Lance struggle.

He was pathetic. Couldn’t even keep a normal conversation with his soulmate without having to tie him down. And the jealousy he’d felt when Rizavi had been talking with Lance, the way she’d pulled that sheepish smile out of him just by some teasing… He’d been jealous, thus acting even more rudely towards her and Lance. Shiro would know he did that to hide his own anger and embarrassment, giving him a soft smile and a knowing look.  
But Lance _didn’t_ know that. Keith must look like such a jerk…

Ugh… He hated he the way he handled these kinds of things…Keith shook his head as he kept walking the same line over and over again; he knew it wasn’t him, not completely anyway.  
Keith knew Lance thought he’d lost his whole family when protecting them from oncoming zombies. He knew that Lance, just like Keith once, had lost everything dear to him.

Veronica had told him so.

She’d told him and Shiro many stories about Lance, giving them a picture of what he was like. She described him as someone with a lot of ego, he was a flirt, he was a pretty boy and he knew it. But she also told them about the fact that he fed the stray cats in their street, took in those on the edge of death and nursed them back to health. How he played with the little kids in their neighborhood and how he was fiercely protective of his family.

She told them about the kindness behind the ego, behind the walls he’d put up, Lance was insecure.   
And in this world where caring was nothing but a disadvantage, where things you loved were so easily lost, Keith could see why Lance had reacted the way he did. Keith had done so once too after all, with Shiro.

_Aaand maybe Lance is a bit reluctant to be his soulmate because the first interaction they had was him pushing Lance to the ground like a maniac, but let’s put that aside for now._

It might take time, and Keith might have to try and act like a normal human being for once, but he will make this work.  
He will make Lance trust him, he won’t abandon him, even if he needs to overcome his own fears and insecurities to do so.

He will reach out, the same way Shiro once did for him.

~*~

Lance stood rooted to the spot as he sought for a possible explanation that could get him out of this situation and possibly this stupid train, preferably before it left.  
“You-you’re Keith’s s-“  
“No! no no no nope! This is one big misunderstanding you see I- uh-“ Lance stumbled over his words, looking the other way to maybe find his excuse magically appearing in the cushions of the train seats.

“No, it makes sense! L.M., Lance McClain! You’re Keith’s and Shiro’s soulmate!”

Lance flinched at the names. He really didn’t want to hear this. “Look uh-“

“Rizavi.” the girl -Rizavi- grinned.

“Rizavi, I need to get off this train, I have a family I need to get back to, I need to feed them and I’m the only one they have left, so please, if you would...”

He felt bad, but he wasn’t exactly lying, he was just… omitting the truth. He did have a family back home! A family of cactuses! And sure, they might not need all that much water, but… Maybe they’d need a little bit? You never know!

The girl laughed, though and shook her head. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

Lance put a hand over his heart and scoffed, clearing his throat. “I’ll have you know I’m the most skilled liar you’ll ever know, I am a master at lying, thank you very much. Now, will you help me get out of these cuffs, please?”

The girl smiled. “No. But if you’d like, I can bring you something to drink.”

After Lance sought for another way to convince her of letting him go, but stumbled into a mental wall, he sighed and nodded. “Sure, why not…”

“Great, let me just go get you something then.”

She turned around and that was that. Lance sagged in his seat, defeated. What was even going to happen when he’d get to the Garrison? Were they going to lock him up? Kill him? Torture him? Tickle him to death by a feather?

He truly had no idea.

His thoughts were interrupted by two dudes standing in the doorway. One had an irritated look on his face and had brown, gelled hair; the way he looked at Lance, glaring and frowning made Lance think of Keith.  
The other was a little taller and had dark skin, his brown eyes scanning him for any threats he would possibly have to neutralize.

“Why hellow! So nice to meet you guys, my name is Lance, and yours?”

“Ryan Kinkade, but you can call me Kinkade.” The taller one said with a monotone voice as he walked passed Lance, not even giving him another look as he’d deemed him “safe”.

Lance watched him disappear into the next wagon and diverted his attention to the other guy instead, who was looking at him with pure annoyance and a thinly veiled hatred. Exactly what he needed.

“Wow! You look like even more of a grump than Keith! If you keep frowning like that you’ll get wrinkles, and even in the apocalypse that’s not a sexy thing to ha-“

“Shut up, you thief, I don’t want to hear anything from the likes of you.”

Lance smiled a bright and broad smile, the guy’s frown only deepened. “Well let’s make a deal then, huh? You untie me, and I’ll be on my way, you’ll never hear from me again and I’ll never steal from you again. Doesn’t that sound like a wonderful deal to you? I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t let him trick you.” Rizavi appeared behind the brown-haired dude, smiling and lifting a brow at Lance, as if trying to say, _“Nice try, but I’m not going to let you escape that easily”_

“He might mean what he’s saying, but he’s Keith’s and Shiro’s soulmate. We can’t let him go.”

Rizavi walked past the sputtering brunette and towards Lance, giving him a bottle of cola.

“Yes, why don’t you just announce to the whole world who I am- or who you think I am! Because I’m _not_ their soulmate!” Lance quickly added, not wanting to blow his cover.

He still accepted the drink, though, ignoring Rizavi’s smug grin.

“He-how-who-eh?”

The brunette pointed at Lance with a stupid look on his face, before quickly composing himself once again. “ _He’s_ their soulmate? The thief, the one who’s been stealing from us for years now, is their _soulmate_?”

“No, I am not, I am but a mere hungry man who might have stolen a few things from your enormous food supply and who you are now kidnapping for no reason.”

The two had a deadpan look on their faces as they looked at him, before facing each other once again. “I’m going to tell Ina we’re ready to leave, I’m too tired for this.” The brunet groaned as he walked past Lance.

Wait, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The girls shrugged as she saw his panicked face and gave him a kind, calming smile.  “Don’t mind James. Just drink up your delicious coca cola and let your soulmate handle the rest, it’s going to be fine.”

She put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him before she also moved to the front of the train.

_Great. Fantastic. Let your soulmate handle the rest, uhu, yeah, as if that mullet wasn’t giving him death glares like only five minutes ago._

Lance sat back down and leaned his head on the backrest of his seat, sighing in defeat as he felt the train move. Was he really supposed to accept this? Just let them kidnap him and then what? He may be Keith’s soulmate, but he’s been stealing from the Garrison for years now, they won’t forgive him so easily for that.

Lance shook his head and decided to just enjoy his drink while he still could, opening the bottle and gulping down the sweet syrupy sustenance, enjoying the taste of it in his mouth. This was _so_ much better than those canned beans, even if it was a little outdated.

He sat there for at least another half hour, trying to ignore the bundle of nerves in his stomach as the train seemed to go even faster, trying to get as much taste and memories out of this delicious beverage.

It was when Keith entered the room that his nerves seemed to spike and disappear at the same time. As if he knew he should be stressed, but his body just couldn’t and that made him even more stressed.

“Hi there.” Keith said. He looked awkward, glancing off to the side and scratching the back of his neck.

“Why yes hello there, I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” Lance put down his empty cola bottle and stood up -as much as he could with that damned cuff around his wrist-.

The boy narrowed his eyes at him. “You did?”

“I did, because I think there has been a little misunderstanding here; I’m uh- not who you think I am and…“

“And who may that be then?” Keith asked, brow raised and smirking.

Lance didn’t like to admit it but _damn_ , his soulmate was _hot_.

Lance looked to the side, made a wild gesture with his hand and pouted his lips, buying time.

"I, uh, I'm-" 

Keith sighed. “I’ll make this easy for you, Lance. You’re my soulmate, your name is literally engraved in my skin. But, you’re also the thief who has been stealing from us for years. You’re going with us for both of these reasons. We’re not going to kill you, nor are we going to hurt you, but you will make up for the things you’ve stolen.”

Keith’s gaze was hard and determined, and although his presence seemed to have some kind of weird grounding effect on Lance, the blue-eyed boy couldn’t help but feel like that gaze was as annoying as a wet sock. But then Keith suddenly looked to the side, a slight blush covering his cheeks. “And you’ll be safe there, under our protection.”

Ah. So, there it is.

The weak link in the armor.

Lance’s expression went from angry, to unbelieving to sad as he hugged himself with his one free arm.

“D-Do you really think it’s safe? That it’s actually okay for me to… Keith, I’ve been stealing from the Garrison for years now, they won’t- I’ll never be- I-I”

Lance began to tear up as his breathing became erratic, fingers digging into the flesh of his upper arm.

Keith’s eyes went wide in surprise as he saw Lance suddenly freaking out and then he frowned as worry took its place. He took a step forward and before he even knew what he was doing he hugged the almost crying boy, shushing him.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Keith felt weird, he’s never had the urge to protect or comfort someone this much, it almost rivaled the obsessive protective behavior he felt for Shiro. He quickly pushed it aside though as Lance nodded and sniffled, pushing Keith away a little.

“Thank you.”

Keith smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Lance smiled back, but looked away as he rubbed his nose. “Would you please get some tissues from my backpack? My nose is running…” He said sheepishly, and Keith nodded, almost mesmerized by Lance’s blush and watery eyes. He looked cute. Keith wondered how Lance would look like when he’d have that same expression for different reas- noooo. Stop that.

Keith shook his head and focused on what he’d been asked to do. The backpack. He’d torn off the backpack when he’d pushed Lance to the ground, so it should be lying somewhere around… Ah! There it is.

Keith went to go get the tissues when he suddenly heard a click and footsteps heading for him.

He quickly turned around, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Lance took his wrist, pulled it towards one of the train’s grabbing rails and put a foot in front of Keith’s so that the dark-haired boy stumbled.  
While he tried to balance himself and tried to understand what was going on, Lance had already attached the cuffs.

 “And this is why I don’t do soulmates, _Keith_.” Lance grinned, saying the other’s name right next to his ear, making the other boy shiver briefly, despite the panic of the situation setting in.

Keith pulled at the cuffs and Lance stepped back, out of Keith’s reach now that he was out of his surprised daze.

“What the heck did you-“

He looked to the cuffs on his wrist and then felt his pocket, noticing it was empty. “How-“

Lance waved the key around in front of Keith's nose, but snatched it away again as he tried to reach for it. “Key was in your pocket and while you were distracted by my little pity party over there, I was able to just snatch it right out. I didn’t actually think my little panic attack would work though, you look like the kind of guy who would be too stuck up to fall for some stupid move like that. But you did, you actually even full-on hugged me. You’re too sweet, really.”

Keith snarled and tugged at the cuffs, wincing at the pain. “Let me go! Now!”

Lance shook his head, laughing. “Hell no! You can stay right there, mullet; I’m going to escape this train, and the Garrison, and I’m not going to let you stop me.”

The train seemed to slow and Lance grinned. “Ah! Looks like this is my stop!”

Keith’s eyes went wide with… Fear? Despair? Lance had no idea and he didn’t want to dwell on it. The faster he was gone from Keith the better.

It would only hurt more if he stayed with him any longer.

He moved to the other wagon and heard Keith struggling against the cuffs. “Lance wait, _please_.”

Lance didn’t look back, but it was a near thing, the despair in Keith’s voice so apparent that something in him almost seemed to break at hearing it, wanted to comfort him like he had done with Lance.

And then the automatic door closed behind him and that was that.

Lance would have to think and act fast. He could hardly roll out of a moving train, so he’d have to step out at the Garrison. As soon as he’d step off, he’d have to find some sort of vehicle, or if push came to shove, he’d have to go back by foot.

He went to the train’s exit doors and pried one open, suddenly seeing the tunnel walls fly past him in a dizzying speed, the screeching of the train deafening in his ears.

Until it all just suddenly disappeared.

Lance was surprised by his sudden, first view of the Garrison.  
Huge planes were standing on the outskirts of the base, seemingly always ready for take-off, and a lot of people were walking around, repairing, delivering, testing… There were a lot of barracks and camps here and Lance couldn’t help but feel wonder and admiration at what he was seeing.

The Garrison had built up a whole new society, sure it wasn’t all that big, not even as big as Plahta city, but the people were healthy and alive and free…

And the deeper they went the more people he saw, wandering, gardening, crafting, laughing; it didn’t look anything like he’d thought it'd look like, with people hungry and scared, fearing the awaiting future and humanity’s undeniable demise lying on the horizon.

He noted the huge dome, the particle barrier, encompassing it all, protecting the base from any outside dangers.

And then it disappeared again as the train headed into another tunnel, finally coming to a halt at another platform.

Here’s his stop!

He made to jump out of the still slightly moving train just as James came barging through the door, eyes locking onto him, lips twisted in a snarl and eyes once again filled with hatred.

“Sayonara suckers!” Lance yelled as he jumped off the train and made a run for it.

But of course, being the egotistical idiot he was, he had to look back, grinning and even saluting as he let out a full belly laugh, just to slam into a brick wall and fall on his ass. Again. He didn't know how much longer his ass could take this abuse.

When Lance looked up, however, he saw it wasn't a wall he'd bumped into, no, he’d ran into a person- a person with muscles made of steel; what the _heck_ …

“Ow, ow ow ow…” he rubbed his nose and frowned as the stranger apologized, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’m _so_ sorry, are you okay? I didn’t see you there…”

Lance blinked at the handsome face now suddenly crowding his vision and the smooth, low voice filling his ears. The stranger was handsome, to say the least, beautiful like the way imperfections could make something perfect. His dark silver eyes were filled with worry and although the man was speaking, looking surprised himself as he looked into Lance’s eyes, Lance couldn’t understand it; he could barely understand the concept of words, only able to watch and admire the man.

The way his soft pink lips moved and formed words.

Those kind, mesmerizing eyes, letting shivers run down his spine as they looked at him.

The jagged scar over the bridge of his nose which made him all the more unique and handsome.

The undercut he sported so beautifully and the sudden tuft of soft white bangs almost hanging before his eyes, making Lance’s fingers itch to brush them aside and feel how soft the hair actually was.

Lance felt enamored, he felt like-

Like he’d found his second soulmate.

_This was Takashi Shirogane. Shiro. How was he back? When did he come back? Wasn’t he supposed to be missing in space? People even thought he’d died!_

“Shiro! Stop him!” Lance looked back and saw Keith along with James running towards them -Lance almost laughed at the similar frowns they wore, but quickly realized that if he’d keep standing there, watching Shiro like he was the goddamn sun, he’d be done for.

So, with that, he turned away from his two soulmates and began running once again.

 _Sike_.

Before he could even fully process it, the world seemed to tilt and his legs seemed to give up on him.  
He could see the ground coming closer, but it was like his mind was suddenly engulfed in a thick, dark blanket, making his movements slow and muddy.  
Just before he slammed into the ground, however, a strong, but cold hand wrapped around his arm, almost sweeping him off his feet in an attempt to keep him standing.

By now, Keith and James had caught up completely and Keith was looking at Lance as if he’d just insulted his mother, probably still sore about the stunt Lance had pulled earlier, Lance thought tiredly.

“Keith, explain, what’s going on?” Shiro asked, nodding worriedly to Lance who was swaying on his feet, trying to blink away the blurriness in his vision.

“He’s the thief we’ve been searching for, Lance McClain, _our Lance McClain_ , y’know, soulmate, who’s apparently also a thief, wonderful no?” Keith’s sarcasm was received by a scolding look from Shiro before he looked down again at the swaying boy in his arms… Who was panting and making no movement to struggle.

“What’s wrong with him? He wasn’t like this when we were still in....”

“… Don’t… Suddenly ju… lapsed…”

Their voices were fading in and out now, his vision, Lance noticed was a lost cause and it was like the last bit of energy slipped away like water through his fingers, his knees collapsing under him.

The cold hand on his arm strengthened their hold and another warmer one grabbed him around his waist, keeping him standing.

“Hey… yo…kay?” Shiro asked, but Lance barely noticed, dark spots slithering towards him and gravity shifting; his stomach felt like it was being replaced by a void, a hungry void which was now pulling Lance’s stomach inwards, it hurt, it hurt so much and he felt so tired, so ready to just close his eyes and let his consciousness slip into that void.

He’d been running too much today, he’s had to endure too much stress, too much fear, and the only thing he’d eaten that morning was half a can of beans. He’d had a cola, but that only helps for so long… He couldn’t breathe, he knew he wasn’t having a panic attack, it was just his body not having enough energy to sustain him any longer.

Shiro’s voice was fading more and more, Lance barely registered the cold hand cradling his face before darkness engulfed him along with his thoughts, until only silence remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!!  
> If you did, don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment! They make my day! <3


	4. Broken nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, it's been a while since I last uploaded a chapter!
> 
> I really wanted to post something, but writing has been difficult and I think that I finally comprehend what writer's block really encloses. 
> 
> However, I think I'm finally beginning to regain my writing ability and I wanted to celebrate that with a little horror, langst, fantasy, fluff, drunk, sexy Keith and BLuuueeee! Gotta love Blue. Even though she's kinda mean in this chapter...  
> That'll change though!
> 
> anyway, enough rambling, enjoy the chapter!!

Gaping mouths and empty eyes followed him. He couldn’t see them, but they were there as he stumbled through the darkness.  
Calmly watching him. Waiting.

He didn’t dare outstretch his hands in fear of them getting entangled in leathery skin or sharp teeth.

He was scared. He couldn’t see, smell or hear anything. He was so numb and the only thing he could feel were the eyes which were watching him, hunkering for the flesh attached to his skinny bones. He tried to yell, but it was like hands squeezed his throat shut, making it so nothing came out, nothing but a tiny, wimpy croak.

That was all it took for them to advance.

Hands suddenly touched him from all sides, leathery and soft all the same, groaning and screaming filled his ears and sticky bodies clashed against his, hot stinking breath on his neck, face, arms, legs, _everywhere_.  
He could do nothing but stand there and take it.  
He was going to die the worst death imaginable, and he couldn’t _fucking move_!  
No sound. No movement. No defending himself from the upcoming pain and horror. Nothing.

Cold, hard teeth breached his skin as if it was made out of paper. They tore into his stomach, scratching and pulling. Blood everywhere and still…

He didn’t feel anything.

No pain, at all. And somehow that made it so much worse. He could feel what they were doing to him, but at the same time he couldn't.

He felt alone, like he lost everything without even experiencing it. Without being able to do anything about it. Just a bystander who saw his life get destroyed first hand.

Hearing a roar, the bodies dispersed and something slammed into him, pushing him to the ground and the air out of his lungs. He expected the cold floor to rattle his bones and pull on his already abused skin, but instead it was like he fell into a pool, engulfed by a cool stream of icy waters.

He reveled in the calm feeling before everything came crashing down and he felt the water push him back out, onto the dry land.

Lance didn’t understand a thing of what had just happened. Even less from what he was seeing right now; the only thing he did understand was that he wasn’t in the real world right now.

He felt more awake, like he had been sleeping before this.

Time didn’t seem to be a concept in this world, an ever-staying eclipse hanging a little too big and close for comfort. He felt timeless too, like he existed but didn’t, floating in time itself.  
A watery, black abyss stretched out before him, reflecting the purple sky above him together with its many, colorful stars. They reminded him a lot of the Christmas lights he used to have in his room, warding off the darkness with their colorful light; he almost laughed at the thought.  
High in the purple sky hung clouds which seemed to light up pink and orange at random intervals, as if reflecting the light of a sun he couldn’t see.

When he tried to look into the distance, the only thing he saw was an all-consuming darkness separating the dark substance he was standing on, from the mesmerizing sky.

It was beautiful in a very confusing and disorienting way.

He decided he’d explore for a little while, see where he was, who might be in here with him and most importantly: how to get back out.

Choosing a random direction, Lance began walking and put his hands in his pockets… only for him to discover he didn’t have any pockets, he wasn’t even in his usual outfit anymore. His leather pants and warm hoodie were replaced by a tight-fitting undersuit and a white/blue armor, covering him completely except for his head.  
Somehow, on some instinctual level, he knew there should be a helmet with this armor and also a bay… a weapon. Where did they go?

After walking some more -and noticing it was almost like he hadn't moved at all, since nothing seemed to change, not even the stance of the eclipse or the clouds- he stopped and sighed, looking up at the sky. Of course, he had to get lost in some weird fantasy world with no damn way out. How did he even get here? Was this even real? Wait, was he in a coma?!  
Or maybe he’d died? Oh God, please, he doesn’t want to be dead, he’s too young to die! He doesn’t want to be stuck in this empty void forever!

The sudden sound of a deep rumbling pulled him out of his thoughts like a spring being let go. He stilled and looked back to the direction of the sound. Only to come face to face with a gigantic, golden-eyed lion, growling at him. It was almost just as big as him -and last time he checked, lions were only supposed to come to your thighs- and it had its teeth bared, long canines shining in the dim lights.

It radiated power and elegance. It also seemed strangely impatience. As if it had been waiting for something for a long time.

It was also blue, had he mentioned that? There was a blue, glowing lioness, double the height it should be with teeth as long as his pinky – and Lance had some long ass fingers so those are some huge frickin’ teeth- and it was closing in on him, fast.

He put his hands up and took a few steps back, only for the huge cat to follow him, still snarling.

“Good kitty, good little lion, you’re a good little kitty, cute ki- OH GOD!”

~*~

Shiro thought Keith might be broken.

Hell, he might be broken himself, but at the moment, he’s a little more concerned about Keith. The boy had been lying face down on their couch for at least a few hours now, surrounded by empty beer bottles and regret rolling off of him in waves.  
He hasn’t moved, not an inch. It’s like he turned into the living statue of shame, hate and grieve, not saying a word, not even after Shiro’s gentle probing.

Shiro knew he must be hungry, but even though the heavenly smell of spaghetti is floating through their home, Keith doesn’t budge, not even when Shiro crouches down next to the couch and rubs his back soothingly. “Keith, please come eat, I know you’re hungry, those beers couldn’t have possibly curbed your appetite. I could probably hear your stomach from miles away, right now.”

Again, nothing.

Yeah, Shiro’s had enough.  
Without another word, Shiro turned Keith around, resting an arm under his back and legs and picked him up without sorry, eliciting a distressed yelp out of the younger man.

“What the heck Shiro! Can’t you just let me wallow in self-hatred and frustration! Just let me become one with the couch!”

Shiro snickered and shook his head. “No can do, sweetheart, I made spaghetti and you’re not just going to eat it, you’re going to enjoy it.”

Keith groaned as Shiro lowered him onto a chair and looked at his plate with a frown, pouting his lips. “I’m not even that hungry…”

Just at that moment, his stomach decided to disagree, protesting loudly and Keith turned pink, mumbling something as he picked up his fork.

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Shiro smiled sweetly at the glare he received and gave his soulmate a quick kiss to his temple before he sat himself down and picked up his fork.

They ate in silence for a few moments, thinking about how they could start the very heavy conversation they needed to have without breaking the gentle atmosphere.

Shiro often thought himself to be a very capable person, able to fight, negotiate or sneak his way out of any situation. He knew how to keep the peace and how to handle people, how to calm them, how to get them motivated, how to comfort them.

He knew Keith. He knew the boy was probably beating himself up about how he could’ve handled the situation better, how he should’ve done things and about how he can fix the mess he _thinks_ he made.    

Shiro, over the many years he’s been caring for and loving Keith, has been able to gentle change Keith’s idea of how not everything is his fault, about the fact that people often do or say things that actually don’t have anything to do with him, but their own insecurities.

He wasn’t bullied because he was weird, he was bullied because he represented something the bullies were insecure about.

Talking about insecurities… Shiro’s been having some.

He’d heard Keith’s story about everything that had happened on the train, before the younger boy began sulking on the couch and to be honest, Lance sounds just like Keith when he was younger.  
Stubborn, deceitful (when he wants to be), and with a strong wanting to be left alone. Shiro knew it was just a wall, a wall to keep everyone out and his own feelings inside, so he wouldn’t get hurt again. It was a smart tactic, and it had actually helped Keith for a very long time, but the thing with walls is that things can easily get too secure. You won’t want to tear those walls down when the time is right, you never build them to be torn down in the first place, why do so now?

It’s hard to see what’s right in front of you when a wall is blocking your way.

Shiro knew how hard it was to erase and turn that kind of thinking around. It had taken ages for Keith to trust him, let alone actually talk to him and that while they both knew they were each other’s soulmate.

Getting to touch his soul mark on Keith’s skin had seemed impossible at the time.

Shiro would have to be patient, again, and slowly prod and squirm his way between the cracks of those walls Lance had set up, without immediately alarming the boy of his presence.

When he first saw Lance, Shiro was immediately entranced by those baby blues. The boy’s eyes were like two big pools of blue, flowing ocean; deep waters Shiro just wanted to get lost in. And that tanned skin just looked heavenly, he wanted to touch it, rub the boy’s cheeks in a doting manner and brush back any dark brown locks of hair that might get into his face.

Shiro had barely registered the boy running away until the blue-eyed beauty suddenly collapsed into his arms.

The two soulmates knew, via Veronica, that Lance experienced his entire family being torn away from him, only to hear later that they were most probably killed by the Galra, along with the Alliance. He’d been abandoned in a world which was torn apart and ready to do the same to him. He’d been all alone.

It doesn’t take a genius to know that such an experience messes with your mind. Of course, you wouldn’t want to love or care for other people after losing everyone you once held dear.

Keith had been much the same, and so both he and Shiro had kind of expected Lance to react the way he did.

Still, it must’ve hurt for Keith, his own soulmate rejecting and deceiving him like that and even though they knew the things they knew, Shiro could just see Keith beating himself up about it.

However, before Shiro could say anything about it, Keith put up his hand. “I know what you’re thinking and it isn’t the case. I know Lance must be in a hard spot right now, trust me, I’ve been there. I know how he feels, and I know it wasn’t my fault he pulled back like that… It’s just, hard not to at least consider the thought it might be partially my fault… The first thing I did was push him to the ground, after all; I cuffed him and then didn’t say another word to him. That couldn’t have been a great first impression…”

Shiro sighed and caught Keith’s hand, laying his hand on top of it and squeezing gently. “It was indeed not the best way to handle things, but you didn’t know it was him yet and he might not have listened if you tried to negotiate with him by just talking. You got him here and for the moment, that’s all that matters. He’s still with us, we can still change things around, change his way of thinking and with Veronica here to help us… We’ll get through to him eventually.”

“Like how you did to me?”

When Shiro looked up from their hands, Keith was looking at him with a soft smile and shining eyes; Shiro didn’t often get to see his soulmate like this, without his armor. The boy didn’t want others to see him this vulnerable, often not even Shiro. Shiro smiled back, squeezing Keith’s hand and enjoying his soulmate’s touch.

“Yeah, just like then.”

Keith nodded and the softness fell away again, hidden behind those metal walls and steely, purple eyes; instead, something devious took its place. “So, we’ll keep our distance then. We won’t crowd him, nor will we tell him what to do. We’ll let him come to us, give him a few nudges here and there, making sure he knows he’s always welcome, his presence always appreciated and wanted. Maybe, in time when we know he’s developing feelings for us, we’ll even make him a little jealous. Kiss in front of him, hold hands, make heart eyes at each other and all that stuff. We’ll let him see that letting others- _us_ , in is more fun than being alone.”

When Keith was done with his (evil) planning and looked back to Shiro, he was met with a smug face. “Great strategist as always I see, you’re really looking forward to this, aren’t you…” Shiro smirked, eyebrow lifted and head leaning on his hand. “Well, I do need to get back at him for tricking me like that.” Keith said, grinning a devilish grin and making Shiro blush. He leaned forward a little, putting on a sly smile. “Look who’s talking, though, I can count the people you trust and love on one hand, even then I’d still have fingers left…”

“Well then maybe you should save those fingers for other things?”

Shiro choked on air and Keith’s grin grew bigger, grabbing Shiro’s chin from over the table in a firm grip and pulling him closer. Keith’s breath ghosted over his lips for a second, purple eyes lidded and filled with amusement, seducing the older man oh so easily until all he saw was Keith. The boy noticed his mesmerized state easily and smashed their lips together in a quick but heated kiss- which only served to amplify the boiling heat Shiro felt at his soulmate's teasing. He could feel Keith’s smirk as his lips moved against his, Keith shortly licking them before leaning away. Shiro followed along for a moment, wanting – no _needing_ \- more.  
The younger man’s grin became even bigger as he noticed.

Then he leaned back and threw up on the floor.

Shiro promised himself never to buy Keith any alcohol again.

~*~

Lance was holding back a scream as he woke up, gasping and sweating and fucking _panicking_. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, that felt way too real for a dream, what was that?! A blue Lion!? How do I even come up with that shit? Fuck…”

He closed his eyes and tried to calm down his unstable breathing and erratically beating heart, but when he tried to move his hands, he felt something pull on them and heard an all too familiar rattle.

“You have to be shitting me.”

He really couldn’t catch a break, could he?

When he opened his eyes again, he noticed he was lying on a bed with white, clean sheets- his wrists, much to his frustration, were back to being cuffed, this time to the rails of the bed he was lying in; he was still at the Garrison.

His luck really is getting worse by the day.

Lance pulled on the cuffs a little firmer, only to get paralyzed with pain immediately, holding back a scream and biting his lip; when he examined his wrists a little closer, he winced, noticing the bandages around them. He must’ve really irritated the skin around the marks for so much pain to arise just from some pulling.  
That was going to be a bitch to heal.

He groaned as he flopped back into the cushions. He hated soul marks, and bonds, and soulmates so much, right now.  
  
He’d found his soulmates, after waiting for them for so long, and he needed to leave them before even getting to know them. 

Lance knew it was for the best. He didn't _need_ soulmates, didn't _want_ them...

Except, deep inside he knew that wasn't true. He did want them, and deep inside he was sorry for the things he'd said and done to Keith, who had obviously tried to hold out an olive branch when he'd tried to comfort Lance.

In all honesty, Lance did want to be with them, but he was just scared. Soulmates had so much power over you, emotionally and physically, and he just couldn't risk it. 

Lance had always daydreamed about how they’d meet, if they were older or younger, what they looked like… and now he’d found them both and they were even better than all his dreams combined.

Lance knew less than one percent had three soulmates, it was a rare occurrence, just like the bond he shared with Keith in which he could feel his pain.  
He knew a polyamorous relationship would be difficult. His mother had often told him so too, that the relationship he would have with his soulmates would rely a lot on trust and that Lance played a big role in that.

She’d prepared him for what was to come and also for possible disappointment.  
It didn’t happen often, but sometimes soulmates got rejected and it was known that being rejected by your soulmate could have grave repercussions for both sides, such as depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts.

You could reject a soulmate by scratching their name off your skin, however, it needed to be a conscious and self-made decision, no one could sever the bond for you, nor could they make you do so if you didn’t really want to.

His mother had told him all of this when she’d thought him old enough and had always reassured him that if he’d ever need help or had any questions, she’d be there for him. She supported him even though he had two other soulmates, which was often frowned upon by society and had encouraged him to engage, fall in love, and not to listen to anyone else when it came to his soulmates.

The thing is that those words were spoken in a world which doesn't exist anymore, he lived in the apocalypse now and his dreams were long buried in making sure he lived to see another day. 

They were probably already in a wonderful relationship, too.  
Keith who, from what he'd seen, was a very strong and independent individual, and Shiro, who looked just as strong and magnificent in real life as on his computer screen. Just like the man he’d looked up to for years now. They were probably perfectly happy without him.

He wasn’t going to change that.

He’d fall apart if it’d go wrong, and it would. Nothing lasts forever.

Lance shook his head to try and forget the depressing thoughts sneaking their way into his mind, the thoughts of wanting and nostalgia, burying them deep inside where no one could reach them, not even Lance himself.

He noticed that he was clothed in a hospital gown, there was also an iv-drip attached to his arm. He almost wanted to pull it out himself but knew that if someone attached him to the thing, it would most probably be for a reason. 

The room he was in had clear, white walls, with different posters of the human body plastered on them. There were also multiple beds, but at the moment, no one was lying on them. Is this a hospital ward, or something? It certainly would explain the hospital gown and the iv-drip…

As he was trying to sit up -which was a very slow and tiring process thanks to the cuffs- the door to the room suddenly opened. Lance flinched at the sound and accidentally pulled on the cuffs yet again, a stab of pain going through his arms.

He ignored it and instead watched as two people stepped through the door.

He didn’t recognize either of them.

No scrap that, he did recognize one of them.

“Commander Iverson?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading! I'm sorry it was shorter than usual, I promise next chapter will be longer!
> 
> BTW, THANK YOU all so much for your support!! the comments and kudos are SO sweet and have really pushed me through that writer's block, so again, thank you!!


	5. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I say no one important dies, no one important dies!! XDD
> 
> Enjoy!!

 “Commander Iverson?”

The gruff man looked up, and although Lance could see the recognition in his eyes, he didn’t say or do anything; the commander just made way for a(n even more) serious, older looking woman who was now standing at the end of his bed.

The woman had short grey hair and a posture even a ruler couldn’t beat, her light grey eyes were boring into his, and he subconsciously sat up straighter.

He wanted to ask Iverson questions. What had happened to his family? Were they still alive? Had they escaped? Was his family captured or were they killed right off the bat? How did he get here?

Instead, a heavy silence filled the room as they all stared at each other. Awkwaardd.

“How long are you two going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

The woman’s face was like stone, not even the littlest bit of emotion shone through except for a clear annoyance which somehow irritated Lance to no end, like she thought she was better than him or something.

“Good afternoon, I am admiral Sanda and I am in command of this base, please tell me your name.”  

Lance frowned at this and tilted one of his thin brows, he was pretty sure his name was written on the arm of each of his soulmates.  
He knew she knew his name, but there was still a small chance that she didn’t; that she didn’t know his soulmates were walking through the very same building they were standing in right now. It would be stupid to give her that information.  
Better to play it safe.

“Why hellow! My name is Brad Pitt, and it is _so_ nice to meet the ringleader of my kidnappers, Sanda, you have no idea! I must say, I’ve had a pretty comfortable stay so far. This piece of carton bed? Ten outta ten! The hospitality of this place? A-mazing!”

Lance could practically see her eye twitch at every word he just said and his face hurt from trying to keep a straight face at the stuck-up way she tried to handle his humor. She almost looked like Kei-

The woman cleared her throat and straightened her back -which Lance had thought was impossible- trying to regain her composure.

“I have a few questions for you and would like you to answer them truthfully, Lance McClain. Will you cooperate?”

He winced at the sound of his name.  
So, she did know his soulmates were here, that made things a little more difficult. He also felt slightly irritated by being so blatantly ignored, but he didn’t let it show, plastering on one of his dashing smiles instead; he would’ve crossed his arms in an air of nonchalance if they weren’t cuffed to the freakiNG BeD, _agAiN_.

“If I answer your questions, will you let me go?”

“No, but your answers might make a difference in how big of a punishment you will receive.”

The woman said this with no hesitation and Lance couldn’t read anything in those ice-cold eyes about how severe the punishments would or could be. Would she kill him for the things he’d done?

“What if I lie?”

“I recommend you don’t for your own benefit, but I’ll know if you decide to do so anyway.”

The blue-eyed boy swallowed and turned to Iverson for help, who just watched him with a stoic look in his eyes. Great.

He looked back to admiral Sanda and shrugged, trying to make himself comfortable even though his heart was racing a mile per minute and the bed felt like a wooden plank.

“Ask away, lady.”

“Are you a Galra spy?”

Lance almost choked on air and outright laughed in her face, although it wasn’t a happy laugh but a bitter one. Keith had asked the same question on the train and it didn’t sound any less ridiculous hearing it for a second time.

“I’d rather die than work for those fuckers.”

The woman nodded. “Good, I thought so already, we didn’t find any traces of quintessence on you, nor any other indications of you being around any Galra other than the wound on your cheek made by an ordinary patrol bot. Now, next question-“

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, you’re just going to leave it at that? I say no, and you just believe me? Maybe they knew you’d look for those things and cleaned me up! And what the hell is quinte-whatever? Is that some kind of food-”

The woman eyed him for a second before lifting a brow and interrupting him. “I know what I am doing Mr. McClain. I wasn’t joking when I said I’d know if you lie. Next question: are you aware that your soulmates are both here at the Garrison, Mr. McClain?”

This time it was his time to be annoyed and he had to hold himself back from snarling at the woman. Of course, she’d mention his soulmates, ugh.

He was tempted to lie right in her face and test this so-called “lie detector” she had installed in her brain, but decided it wasn’t worth it. The more he complied and cooperated, the sooner he could get rid of these cuffs, escape, and go back to his homey little dump in Plahta.

“Call me Lance, and why yes, I am aware of that little fact.”

“Were you aware of this while you were stealing from us?”

Lance flinched and looked away sheepishly. “No. I wasn’t.”

“Hm, is that so… Why did you steal from us?”

Lance couldn’t help but give the woman an unbelieving look, but she just looked back at him as if she hadn’t just asked the stupidest question of the century.

He was lying in the hospital bed with a reason for Pete’s sake!

“Are you serious?”

When the woman said nothing, he rolled his eyes.

“Well you see, I’m trying to start this museum, but instead of using paint, I thought it’d be nice to use food, y’know? Gives that extra little spice to it, if you get what I mean.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, but as always, the stern woman only looked irritated. He could see Iverson holding back a smile, though. Score!

When Sanda kept waiting for an answer, Lance sighed and sagged against the rock-hard cushions.

“I was hungry, there are no supplies or food left in the city anymore. I didn’t have a choice.”

The woman frowned at this. “You always have a choice, you could’ve joined the Garrison, you could’ve helped us find those supplies and could’ve earned your sha-.”

“I’m not joining this ticking time bomb. Do you think I’m stupid?”

His voice was cold and detached, making the woman stop her speech and Iverson step closer, despite Lance being cuffed to the bed already.  
The Admiral quickly continued, however.

“I see, well, as I just said, you always have a choice, and I am willing to give you one now.”

Lance eyed her skeptically as she looked to Iverson but focused his attention on the angry looking man as he cleared his throat and began speaking.  

“You either begin working here to repay your debt to us, you’d be cleaning and doing things such as mopping the hallways, mopping the swimming pool, mopping the kitchen, mopping the b-“

“I get it, I get to be Cinderella and mop a hell of a lot, what’s the other option?”

The man grumbled at Lance, throwing him a glare for interrupting him in the middle of his explanation before continuing. “If you don’t want to cooperate with us and keep trying to run away from the debt you owe us, you’ll be locked into one of the holding cells here.”

Lance’s mouth fell open and he looked between the two people who were willing to lock up a teenage boy just for stealing from them… Which also would’ve happened if he were actually in a non-apocalyptic world, but still!

“you can’t be serious.”

“Actually, we are. We’ll give you a few hours to think about it and when we come back you’ll have made your decision, otherwise, we will make it for you.”

With that, the woman turned away from him and towards the exit. 

“We also have some visitors for you. Maybe they can help change your mind about things.”

Lance scoffed at the woman. If she thought those two idiots -as beautiful as they might be- could change his mind, then she was sorely mistaken. He was going to leave this place even if it was the last thing he-

The slam of the door was loud, and he flinched at the sound, realizing he was once again alone in the room.

Those pretentious...

Lance knew that if he just thought this through and looked around, he could get out of this.

Okay, so he was lying in the hospital ward, probably had two guards outside, and a heck of a lot more people guarding the planes, vehicles and the train. If someone recognized him, he was fucked, which wasn’t all that difficult with the clothing he was wearing, so that would be the first thing he’d have to change. Or second one, since he also has to change the fact that he’s _cuffed_ _to the_ _bed_. Is this a common kink around here, or something?  

Ugh; maybe he should just break his thumbs? It would hurt like hell, but at least he’d be free? And then what? Go through the apocalypse with two broken thumbs? _Not one of the smartest ideas you’ve had, Lance…_

Sighing, he leaned back and slammed his head into the wall behind him, a little harder than intended. Groaning, he pulled on the cuffs to rub the back of his head and cringed when a stab of pain went through him.

"This sucks."

Looking at the door, he wondered when his soulmates would come and try to convince him. Maybe he could convince _them_ to release him? Maybe cry a little? They probably won’t be deceived by the same trick twice, though.

The click of the door opening surprised him, Iverson having opened it when he’d been lost in thought.  
He kept a stoic look on his face, knowing his soulmates would come in, thinking that ‘just because they’re his soulmates’ they could change his mind. Well, he’ll show those beautiful assholes what he’s made o-

The people behind that door weren’t his soulmates.  
Instead there stood someone Lance had thought he would never see again. Someone he thought he’d lost so long ago.

“Mom?”

His mother smiled upon seeing him, eyes watery and red. Lance felt like he had died and been brought back to life again in those two small seconds they stared at each other. He felt like he wasn’t really there anymore. His mom -his mother who was supposed to be dead- was standing before him, well and safe and alive. “Is that really you? Please tell me I’m not…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence before his mother came running and swung her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He wanted to hug back so much, wanted to encompass her in his arms and never let go, but he could because of those damNED CUFFS. He was crying by now and his mom was too. “Lance, my boy, I’m so glad you’re alive. I’m so glad you made it here, you’re back. My little boy is back!”

He didn’t know how or when it happened but before he knew it his arms were free, and he immediately made use of that, hugging his mom tight, and burying his face in her hair. She still smelled the same, even though the shampoo was different, she still smelled like peach, like sea, like home.

This was actually happening… She didn’t die! She wasn’t a mindless zombie! Wasn’t enslaved by the Galra! She was safe in the Garrison and back into his arms!

He didn’t know how long they just hugged and cried. He thinks he might have wailed, maybe even screamed in joy and sadness but after a while, his mom pulled back despite Lance’s protests, and made room for other people who Lance hadn’t even noticed had come in.

They were the rest of his family.

His two little cousins, Sylvio and Nadia were looking up at him with big eyes, both visibly trembling with the need to jump him in their need for cuddles. Instead they were holding on tight to the fabric of their mother’s dress, Lisa. She was Lance’s sister in law, wife of his older brother, Luis, and had been looking at him with a warm smile. His brother Marco stood next to her, a big grin on his face, mirroring his own. Lance’s sisters, Rachel and Victoria, were there too, of course also with a shit eating grin on their faces.

Not saying anything, Lance just spread his arms and they all immediately got the gesture, coming at him in one motion and piling themselves up on top of him.

He probably cried again, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered. He had his family back, they were safe, they weren’t dead like he’d originally thought. Like he’d been thinking for at least two years now.

“I'm so happy you’re all okay! I thought I was all alone. I thought you were all dead.”     

He wasn’t alone.

“You’re not alone.”

And man, if that didn’t feel good, weird and frightening all at once.

“I would love to just hug you all forever and smother you two with cuddles and kisses as much as you’d like me to.” He said as he pulled back and ruffled his two cousins’ hair, snuggling his face against theirs. “But, I- I’ve noticed we’re missing some people…”

A heavy silence hung in the air as his family stood back up and looked away, only Rachel kept sitting beside him on the bed.

“I’ll take the kids for something to eat.”

Lisa muttered with a heartbroken expression on her face as she guided the kids outside, placating their cries as they didn’t want to leave him. Lance grinned at them and waved. “You’ll get to see your favorite uncle again soon! Don’t you worry!”

And with that the kids disappeared from sight, Marco muttering something about how Lance couldn’t possibly be the favorite uncle and Lance throwing him one of his shit-eating grins again.

That grin disappeared, though, as Veronica cleared her throat. “Well, to answer your question…”

The hard and clever demeanor his sister usually wore was momentarily broken as she seemed to be stricken with grief, her face cast downwards and lips pursed together.

That wasn’t a look Lance had ever seen on his older sister and he decided he didn’t like it either. He liked her sharp wit and intelligence, surprising everyone she met as she expanded their horizon with everything she did or said. Lance didn’t like her looking so sad.  
Surprisingly it was Rachel who took over, practical and neutral expression on her face.

“Gramps and Granny are here at the Garrison, placed in a building specially made for those who can’t take care of themselves, be it because of old age or because of some handicap or critical wounds. So, don’t worry about them, they’re safe.”

Lance subconsciously sagged in relief and felt the air escape his lungs as he finally released his breath. His mom and siblings smiled reassuringly at him, before Veronica picked up where Rachel had left off.

“Luis was captured by the Galra when staying behind to help the camp we’d been residing in. Dad stayed behind with him and was also captured. We know they’re still alive since we’ve seen them on hacked security cameras in one of the Galra stations. They’re alive and for the moment, safe. As much as you could call being in a Galra base “safe”.”

She muttered the last part and looked away, frowning and arms crossed before her. His mom was much the same, clenching her fists, but trying to keep strong in front of her children, smiling softly at Lance.

Lance pulled her in a hug, and beckoned his other three siblings, who quickly approached and embraced them. He was just so happy he at least had them back, feeling like he could just combust in a fit of rainbows.

And although his family wasn’t entirely complete yet, somehow, someway, he’ll save his brother and father out of the Galra’s clutches and reunite his family.

He promised.

~*~

His family brought him dinner and ate with him, huddled together on and around his bed, laughing and crying and giggling and playing. He felt like he was fucking dreaming. Like he’d taken drugs and he was riding a wave of ecstasy. He was in heaven, and he was constantly afraid of when it would wear off, when the dream would stop and the harsh reality would slap him in his face with a bottle of his hidden whiskey and cocaine he had stored away in the deepest parts of the house.

But it didn’t wear off, he could hug his siblings and cousins, bite back snarky remarks when Veronica or Rachel would tease him with something, hold his mother’s hand as she ate next to him, smiling softly.

Sometimes it would get a little awkward. It would get quiet and everyone would just sit there and stare at each other, thinking about all the lost time they had to make up for and how the world has gone to shit. About the traumatizing things they’ve seen and how they all knew Lance had been out there in the cold hard world for three years. About the fact that he has changed, got quieter, more reserved and often got lost in his own thoughts, mumbling to himself and staring at nothing.

But then Lance would shake his head, crack a stupid joke and everyone would be laughing again, mocking Lance for the fact that his bad humor hadn’t changed at all.  

They all stayed until midnight (except for his little cousins, who made loud protests when told they had to go to bed earlier than the rest), and eventually parted from him with a firm hug and sometimes a kiss to his cheeks or forehead.

Veronica stayed as Marco lead Lance’s mother out of the room, holding her arm and bidding Lance goodnight.

Commander Iverson came back in -Admiral Sanda was nowhere to be seen-, and Lance begrudgingly complied to their terms. Namely, he wouldn’t try to run away, he wouldn’t hurt other cadets or people under the Garrison’s care and he would follow orders like a good little dog.  
In return, he got to stay in the Garrison with his family.

He felt uncomfortable, though. He was used to the feeling of constant danger surrounding him, of having to find your way through treacherous buildings and back alleyways. He was used to being alone and following his own rules. Plus, he wasn’t joking when he said the Garrison was a ticking bomb just waiting to blow. It’s only a matter of time before the Galra get through that barrier and when they do everyone in here will be blown to bits and pieces.

However, after Veronica gave him one of her “do-what-I-say-or-you’ll-regret-it” glares, he was quick to agree.

He would be assigned a room close to the other cadets, those who are -or were- training to become a pilot.  
The room he wanted when he signed in at the Garrison try-outs to become one of those cadets. The world has some shitty humor if you ask him. Letting him in at the Garrison when the apocalypse hits earth, s’ just typically his luck.

But anyway, for tonight, Lance was to stay in the hospital ward, since he hadn’t regained his full strength yet and they had to prepare the room and all that shit. They let him have full meals, though, and they removed the iv-drip (which he was very grateful for because Lance _hated_ needles.)

He was ordered to begin his job tomorrow morning; Veronica would tell him what to do and point the way to the person he’d be helping every Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday for every week from that day on. (She’d told him tomorrow was Tuesday and _wow_ , didn’t it feel fantastic to know what day and date it was!?)  
That person was also going to give him a tour of the base and every place he needed to know to do his job.

He's nervous.

Veronica sat next to him on the hard bed and frowned. “How does your ass not hurt on this piece of carton that is your bed.”

Lance chuckled and put his arms behind his head, lifting a cocky brow and smiling his trademark smile. “I've had worse th-“

She smacked him on the back of his head and he laughed, rubbing the sore spot and groaning in pain a moment after. “Something I didn’t miss was you slapping the shit out of me, though.”

She grinned and pushed up her glasses. “Sorry, no refunds.”

He rolled his eyes and they settled into an easy silence, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

“We’re all really happy you returned safe and sound, really, you have no idea, mom was beside herself when she heard you’d arrived at the Garrison, alive and well… But I have a few questions I want you to answer-“

Lance rolled his eyes. “What? Another interrogation? I’m not a criminal, you know?”  

She lifted a brow at him and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Stealing during the apocalypse doesn’t count.” He added.

She sighed and crossed her arms, leveling him with a look. Eventually, he caved. “Yeah, yeah fine, what do you wanna know?”

“Why didn’t you come to the Garrison sooner?” she demanded, eyes hard and sad at the same time.

Lance shook his head at her question. “This place is a ticking time-bomb, Veronica. Even you must know that…”

Pursing her lips, she nodded. “I know, but it’s the safest place we got for now. We… The outside is too dangerous for them, Lance, we can’t let our family go out there again. Last time we lost dad and Luis and… And we lost you.”

Lance pursed his lips. He knew what the outside was like more than anyone, and so he knew that what Veronica was saying was true. His family wouldn’t last a week out there.

“Plus, this base is literally humanity’s last hope and if that’s the case, I want to help. I want to help the earth get rid of the Galra, even if it’s just one step at a time. And it’s not just luck that kept us standing for so long, y’know? We’re not entirely defenseless. We have resources, we have weapons in the making…”

Lance let out a bitter chuckle, startling Veronica out of her speech. She was looking at him with wide eyes and he realized he’d never really interrupted her before, never doubted her or her causes. He cleared his throat and looked away, ashamed and embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that… I’ve seen some of your planes and you don’t have nearly as much as the Galra do. You don’t have enough firepower, or manpower. The only way we’d be able to win is if we had that ‘voltron’ everyone was speaking about, and that’s just a rumor that went around from when this thing started. A rumor the Garrison started, to give the surviving some hope before everything went even more to shit…”

Lance realized he was ruining the mood, saying what he was thinking without considering his sister’s feelings; he quickly looked up to see her sister with pained eyes and pursed lips, as if she was holding herself back from saying something. he shook his head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that-“

“No, I get it, I was the same." Veronica interrupted with a sad smile. "My thoughts were exactly the same. In the beginning, I didn’t even want to stay here. I wanted to stock up on food and go on our way to… someplace else, somewhere with no people… But I swear this base really does have the means to end this war, this apocalypse. I can’t tell you why-“

“Because it’s classified information?” Lance joked.

His sister huffed. “Something like that, yeah…”

Lance snorted, waving his hand and rolling his eyes at the cliché he’d heard in way too many movies. He caught a glimpse of his wrist in the process and a pang of sadness shot through him.  
Of course, Veronica noticed. “You’ve had a rough time, haven’t you? And I don’t just mean the past three years… Meeting your soulmates the way you did, _when_ you did…”

“It’s unfair…” Lance mumbled, clenching his fists and taking in a deep breath.

He’d thought his family was dead, he thought not getting attached to anyone would be best for him and his… Mental health. He still thinks that but…

He has his family back and he’s not alone anymore… shouldn’t he let people in again? Shouldn’t he get to know his soulmates and stop pushing them away? He should. But that’s easier said than done.  
The distrust which comes so easily to him now won’t just disappear with a snap of his fingers. He can’t just expect that after all the shit he went through the last three years, he can just change back to the naïve, flirty, social Lance he was before.

“…ance, Lance? Are you okay? Earth to Lance?”

Lance blinked a few times at the concerned look his sister was giving him and smiled reassuringly. “I’ve never been better sis, happiest man in the world. Just a little tired.”

Veronica nodded, watching him for a few more seconds before taking in a deep breath and hugging him for the last time that night.

“Just know that you’re not alone anymore okay? If you ever want to tell me something, I’ll be right here.” Lance nodded and Veronica pulled back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

She stood up and turned to leave the room when he grabbed her wrist.

“Hey, I do believe you… If you say the Garrison has the means to end this war and you believe in this base… I’ll believe in it too.”

Veronica looked surprised before she quickly eased her features into a gentle smile. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, you’ve gone through a lot. More so than even us… But thank you, Lance. That means a lot to me.”

Lance laughed and made a shooing gesture with his hand. “Now, now, let’s not get smoochy in here, as much as I missed you, this is a little too-“

“Shut up.” Veronica rolled her eyes and turned to leave the room, turning off the lights and waving nonchalantly over her back. “Just see you’re still here in the morning, dumbass.”

“I’m not a dumbass, you’re a dumbass!”

His laughing went unheard as the door closed behind her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like I'm still a little stuck. 
> 
> I have so many darn ideas for this story, but i just can't seem to find the will to write down the words... I'm not giving up on this fic, though!! It's just that the time between uploading new chapters may differ and be a little chaotic from time to time.
> 
> BTW! Thanks for all the kudos and love you've given this fic! it really means a lot to me!!


	6. A new start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> This time it's been a really long time since I last updated...  
> I just had a tough time writing... but I really want to continue this so please don't give up on me :'D
> 
> Anyways enjoy!

The new uniform he had received itched like crazy.  
It sat uncomfortably against his skin and Lance tugged on its collar, scrunching up his face as that only made it worse. It was such an ugly color too: a bright orange with white patterns. As if he was a prisoner… which he kinda was, to be honest- a willing prisoner, but a prisoner nonetheless.

“Why do you have to make these so uncomfortable, seriously, it’s like you deliberately chose the itchiest fabric possible and made it into a uniform.”

Veronica huffed but didn’t avert her eyes from her nails. “Quit whining already Lance, I remember when you would do anything to get into one of these uniforms. Where did that enthusiasm go, hm?”

“Down the drain as soon as I actually got to wear it, ugh, itchy~” Lance had no doubt a random onlooker would think he was doing a ceremonial rain dance or rehearsing his play as lead monkey or something, looking at the way he was moving and trying to scratch every itchy surface on his body.

He was just glad Veronica provided him the cuffs he asked for. Apparently, the Garrison had a lot in stock, they even had one with his preferred design too. It’s not too small, or too big or too soft or too leathery. It’s just fine.

Unlike the uniform.  

“Would you please, just, sit down? You’re making a fool out of yourself.” Veronica sighed annoyed.

“And extension you, so that makes it okay! … Why are you glaring at me?”

“I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust.”

“Oof, harsh.”

“That’s life.”

Still moving from one leg to the other, Lance bit his nails and nervously looked at the mechanic double doors.

His future coworker could be walking through it any moment now. Would they be nice? Would they show him around? Did he know them? Why didn’t Veronica want to tell him anything about them?

Why was she just sitting there, filing her nails and smirking at him as if she knew something he didn’t?  
Lance sat himself down on a chair next to his sister with a dramatic sigh.

They were currently in some weird common room. People were walking past or through the room like any normal day, reading books, listening to music, meeting friends, getting their daily chores done.

Lance found it really fucking weird.

It’s so very, very strange, being around so many people. People who were just doing their jobs, duties, and going about their daily lives. People who didn’t want to hurt or rob him, people _he_ wasn’t supposed to rob.  
Lance tensed up as someone walked by him again, trying to stifle down that fight or flight reflex.

“Relax, you have nothing to worry about. People don’t know who you are, to them you’re just a new face, saved by the Garrison.” Veronica whispered softly, smiling and quickly squeezing his hand before going back to filing her nails.

Of course, that’s what she would think he’s worried about. People knowing he stole from the Garrison, stole in order to survive and keep up his strength. What else would he worry about? People trying to attack him out of nowhere? Trying to kill him, just for the clothes on his back?  
How ridiculous of a thought that must be for these people-- Lance shakes his head at the thought. _They just don’t know, be happy they don’t, don’t be so condescending after all the things you’ve done to survive._ Closing his eyes, Lance tried to block out the annoying thoughts _. Just relax, get your jazz on. Yeet your way through this.  
_More people entered the room, but Lance decided that, for once, he’d ignore it. _Just random people. Your sister’s right, rela-_

“Took you long enough, we’ve been waiting for ages.” Veronica complained jokingly as she moved to stand up.

“Sorry about that, Pidge was too lazy to get out of bed, had to literally drag them out of it before they realized what day it was.”

The second he heard their name, his voice even, Lance opened his eyes and felt his breath being knocked out of him. Before him were two ghosts, looking as healthy as can be. It only took him a second to leap to his feet, their eyes round in surprise as he hugged them as soon as they were in reach. How many ghosts had he seen come back to live, now? How many times had he cried, even though he had sworn to himself never to cry again?

“L-Lance? You’re suffocating me.” Pidge squirmed in his grip, but Hunk just grinned and hugged back, making sure Pidge couldn’t escape the group hug. “I’m glad to see you too buddy, bet you missed my legendary cooking, didn’t you?”

Lance laughed, a broken thing, but a laugh nonetheless. “Why didn’t you come to visit me yesterday?”

“Because discovering your family is alive after two years of thinking they’re not is enough of a shock to your system for one day. We didn’t want to overwhelm you.” Pidge admitted, adjusting their glasses as they sheepishly looked up to him. “Though, it still wasn't entirely our decision.”

“Yeah, if it were up to me, we would’ve come barging through that door as soon as you were awake!” Hunk laughed as he squeezed them harder.

“Hunk, can’t… breathe.” Lance muttered and Hunk quickly let him go. “Oh, right.”

Pidge immediately took a deep breath, taking two steps back. “As much as I’ve missed you, that’s enough hugging for one day.”

Lance grinned, quickly wiping away his tears of joy as he studied his friends’ faces. They hadn’t changed a bit. Pidge still had their glasses, their short hair and standoffish, but caring attitude, and Hunk still carried around that big smile on his face, yellow bandana tied around his head and even after everything, he still had that air of kindness and naivety around him.

Lance was the only one who had changed.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys alone for now.” Veronica grinned. “Hunk and Pidge will be the ones showing you around today. You’ll probably be working more with Hunk from tomorrow on though, seeing as Pidge’s work is a little… advanced for you. Anyways, have fun.”

Veronica quickly ruffled Lance’s hair before he could duck out from under her hand, ignoring Lance’s indignant shrieking and with a last wave, she exited the room.

“Ahh! I missed you so much! I’m so happy you’re safe! I’m never letting you out of my sight again!” Hunk beamed, buzzing with happiness.

“Of course, you missed me. Who wouldn’t miss all of this?“ Lance smirked as he gestured at himself.

“Ugh, if you two are done flirting, I would like to get going. We still have to lead Lance around the base, remember?” Pidge exclaimed as they rolled their eyes, already turning their back towards the two boys and walking towards the exit.

Lance grinned.

He’d missed this. So much.

“Hey! Wait for us!” Lance called out as he ran after them.

~*~

So, what they eventually ended up doing, was leading Lance through the halls of the Garrison. They showed him around, made sure he knew where everything was, knew his duties…

However…

They made sure to have some fun first.

“A-are you sure this is safe?” Hunk stammered as he sat on the end of the vehicle Pidge had made out of spare car parts… Or at least, Lance thinks they were car parts… some of them?  
Look, as soon as Pidge said some fancy, complicated words and Lance heard the part about speed, a race, and Pidge inventing cool shit. He was in, okay?

“Of course, it’s safe, Hunk… so long as you’re the one riding the thing at least.” Pidge said, grinning darkly. Hunk paled “W-wait, doesn’t that mean that bystanders aren’t-“

“Who cares! Let’s ride this thing!” Lance laughed maniacally as he turned the machine on and pushed the big red button on the steering wheel, ignoring Pidge’s angry yelling. Something about hyper mode and “not having been tested yet”.

Guess they’ll be testing it now!  
The thing took off on lightning speed, Pidge being thrown against a terrified Hunk in the process, who was clutching the vehicles bars like a lifeline. Which, at this moment, they probably were.

Guess Lance will be driving then! “Ooow~ YEAH! This is my jam!”

Pidge and Hunk screamed as Lance made a sharp left turn, people jumping to the side as they heard the screeching tires and Lance’s excited yelling. “Move it threes! A ten is coming through!”

“Excuse you! I’m at least a twelve!” Hunk squealed before turning green.

“Don’t you dare throw up on me, Hunk! I swear, you’ll regret it!” Pidge cried out fiercely.

Hunk groaned and closed his eyes in fear “I can’t help it! Lance, can’t you stop this thing?”

Lance looked back incredulously, cheeks hurting from the grinning he was doing. “Stop?! We’ve just gotten started Hunk! Prepare yourself for the ride of your life!”

“For God’s sake, look in front of you!”  
“It’s probably going to be our last if you keep driving like that!”  
Pidge and Hunk yelled as their fabulous car/bicycle/airplane almost made a barrel roll.

“YEE-haw!” Lance laughed as the thing seemed to fly through the halls, past surprised and angry faces. Lance felt ecstatic. This was exactly what he needed and when he saw the exit, his excitement only grew. He could probably go even faster out there, fly across the open streets and yell as much as he wanted!  
The thing is, though, he hadn't really planned all of this ahead and just as they were speeding towards the exit, two people came walking through it. There wasn’t anywhere else they could go. No turning back and no turning left or right. Just straight ahead.

Oh no.

“OH GOD! Pidge how do you stop this thing?!” Lance demanded with a high voice, hands tightening on the steering wheel and head whipping back to look at Pidge's confused face. “What!? Now you want to stop? Wh- OH GOD” Pidge quickly jumped forwards as they saw the people in front of them and grabbed a handle Lance didn't even know existed until now, leaning back and pulling it with all the power their small body possessed.  
The machine quickly slowed down, screeching like demons crawling out of hell and almost tumbling over in the suddenness of the brake being pulled.

Was that smoke Lance was smelling?  
At least the people in the entrance weren’t flat pancakes on the ground, that’s really all that mattered at this point.

“Good job, Pidge! I knew I could count on you to save the day!”

Lance could hear Hunk throwing up in the back, Pidge sagged against the steering wheel in relief and people were staring at them, murmuring as they pointed at them.

“How nostalgic.” Lance sighed dreamily.

“Lance?! What the heck were you doing just now? You almost ran us over with this uh- thing!”

Fuck. Never mind.

Lance turned around slowly, heart racing and already thinking about how to get out of this situation. His body visibly cringing when he recognized that the people he’d almost ran over were Keith… and Shiro.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Just his luck.

Shiro was staring wide-eyed at the vehicle which almost squashed him just now, then at Pidge and Hunk, then at Lance. “What’s going on? Why are you speeding through the halls like that? Don’t you know someone could’ve gotten hurt?”

Lance didn’t know how to react even though, normally, he was the master at talking his way out of things. “I- uh- well you know-”  
Keith narrowed his eyes at him, and while Shiro was still surprised, his eyes were sharply focused on Lance. He could clearly see the disappointment set into their eyes more and more by the second.

Pidge put their hand up. “It was my idea. I had it standing next to my other projects and decided we could test it and have some fun. We weren’t supposed to go that fast, at least not inside, but someone decided to push the big red _dangerous_ button I said not to press.”

Pidge murmured the last bit as they threw Lance a nasty look.  
And just like that Lance found his voice back. “Well, everyone would be tempted to push a red button like that! Especially if you tell them _not_ to press it! It’s like using reversed psychology! You can’t blame me, I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Uhu.”

Lance’s eye twitched at the well-timed answer of the people in front of him and was about to protest some more when-

“Who in the hell was speeding through the halls like that!? Does somebody WANT TO DIE- I mean GET HOUSE ARREST?! I STILL NEED SOMEONE TO CLEAN THE TOILETS!” Commander Iverson’s voice grew louder by the second and Lance quickly jumped off their now smoking vehicle.

“Time to run!” Lance grinned as he quickly grabbed Pidge’s collar and Hunk’s arm, pulling them along and away from the crime scene. “Sorry for almost riding you over! Please, don’t tell him it was us! Thank you! Enjoy your day together!” Lance yelled as he quickly threw the wide-eyed couple a quick wink and disappeared behind another corner- Wait a frickin’ second. Did he just “throw them a wink”?! No! What is he doing? He’s only supposed to give them a wink at the fourth meeting, not the second one- No! What he’s supposed to do, is ignore them! Forget their existence, pretend he’s straight as a noodle- Wait.

“Damn, that's quite the second impression as their soulmate.” Pidge grinned and Lance groaned. “Shut up, you tiny devil.”

~*~

When Hunk finally stopped being in danger of throwing up at every movement made, they began their official tour of leading Lance around the Garrison.

“This is so boring.” Lance sighed as they passed yet another meeting room.

He’d seen the meeting rooms, the supply rooms, the dormitories were the people slept, the toilets, the rooms where they held all the cleaning products, computer rooms, the farming grounds, blah blah blah. He’d honestly already forgotten half of where everything was.

“When are we going to see the airplanes I saw when coming here? Or the enormous shield protecting us from the Galra? Or what about that enormous, white building you’ve been trying to distract me from all day?”

“You can’t go to any of these places since you don’t have the authorization nor permission to enter those places, besides, I think we don’t really have any time left. It’s time for dinner.” Pidge announced, quickly nudging Lance into the cafeteria. Lance immediately tensed up.  
Way too many people were gathered there, waiting in line, sitting in groups at tables, talking, laughing, yelling.

There were so many of them… They almost looked… like the hoards outside…

Hunk softly startled him out of his thoughts by squeezing his shoulder, soft smile on his face as he noticed his friend’s troubled state. “You can wait outside if you want. What do you want to eat? I can order for you! Though, the canteen lady will probably think I’m taking it for myself and be even more pissed off, since I normally already take more than the usual… but that’s fine, I’m more than happy to help! I think you’ll really like the hamburgers they have here, they’re delicious really…”

Lance smiles at his friend’s nervous rambling. It really is nostalgic, it steadies him, makes him realize he’s fine, not outside, but here with his friends. “I’m fine, c’mon, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse right now.” 

“That’s like five times your size, bean pole.” Pidge retorted, smirking.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to start that fight with me, Pidge, really?”

He knew he'd said the wrong thing as soon as Pidge's eyes narrowed down to slits. “Are you sure _you_ want to?” 

“Hey, wai- OW, I’m just saying!” He yelped as Pidge punched him in the ribs.

“And I’m just punching.” Pidge stated, looking up at Lance with hidden amusement written on their face.

Hunk quickly came to stand between them. “C’mon guys, not right before we eat!”

They stood in line for a while, bickering and laughing and Lance soon forgot his troubles and insecurities, enjoying the moment as he sat down and began devouring his hamburger. “My God. This is goddamn heavenly! This is made by angels, I’m sure of it, an angel named Patricia, who’s job is working as a canteen lady.”

Pidge watched with clear disgust on their face as Lance stuffed his mouth full and drank his Fanta, just to dump some more ketchup in his mouth. “You almost look like Hunk right now.”

Hunk and Lance turned their head at each other and then back to Pidge.

“Hey!”  
“I do not look like that!” Hunk said, betrayed look on his face. Not as betrayed as Lance felt, though.

“Yes, you do, Hunk. Yes, you do." Pidge smirked, but then quickly turned serious as they directed their gaze towards Lance. "But anyway, we have more important things to discuss. Lance.”

The boy in question stiffened at the way his name was said, slowly looking up from his food to look at Pidge, who was smiling deviously at him. “How’s meeting both of your soulmates? Tell me all the details, or no, not all of them, just the ones I want to know. How does it feel like? Does it feel different having two at once? Is one connection stronger than the other? How did you meet? -Veronica already told me this, but hearing it straight from you might add some more information for my research.”

Lance slowly chewed his food as he stared dumbly at the very interested teenager sitting before him. “So that’s how you knew they were my soulmates, through Veronica…”

They shrugged, diverting their eyes by studying their fries. “That, and I may have peeked at your wrists a little over four years ago when you were asleep.”

“Pidge!” Lance shrieked, offended.

“What? I was curious okay?” Pidge confessed, shrinking slightly.

Lance sighed as he looked at Pidge’s puppy eyes. Ugh, he couldn’t stay mad at them, after all, Pidge didn’t have a soul mark, never had one. He’d be curious too, if he’d hear his friend had two soul marks while he had none. “Yeah, yeah, just ask next time.”

“Wait, does that mean you know mine too?” Hunk asked, looking back and forth between Lance and Pidge in a panic. “Duh, you mutter her name almost every time you sleep, dumbass.” Pidge smirked at Hunk’s red face, but quickly turned back to Lance, opening their mouth to ask more questions, just to get distracted by something behind him.

“What? What is it?” Lance questioned, eyebrow raised curiously.

“Don’t turn around now, but uh… Your other halves may be staring a little at you. Just a little.” Pidge explained, looking as uncomfortable as Lance felt.

The blue-eyed boy frowned and subtly looked behind him – and with subtly he means, swinging his head back and looking directly into the eyes of his two soulmates.

He quickly turned back around.

Pidge facepalmed. “What did I say about not turning around…”

“It’s reversed psychology, Pidge! You know I can’t beat that!” Lance retorted, flustered and face beet red. 

Hunk was panicking, putting his finger in front of his mouth and motioning them to keep it down.

He got ignored in favor of more bickering, Pidge leaning over the table.  “Well, learn some goddamn self-control!“

Lance rolled his eyes. “Self-control is for deprived losers.”

“Guys!” Hunk whispered.

“Ugh, why do I even try with you?” Pidge sighed.

“Cause I’m worth it.” Lance smirked, flipping his hair back nonchalantly.

Pidge rolled their eyes. “Ugh, you should really just try and-“

“Lance?”

Two pair of eyes looked up to a spot above Lance’s head, both Hunk and Pidge falling silent.  
Lance’s body went both hot and cold at the man’s voice behind him.

He quickly shot Hunk an exasperated look. ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’ he mouthed, at which Hunk sagged in his seat, defeated.  
Lance turned around in his seat to face the man standing behind him, face beet red once again as he realized Shiro had probably heard most of Lance’s quibble with Pidge.

“Y-Yeah?”

Shiro had a gentle smile plastered onto his face, trying to hide his amusement at hearing his soulmate’s childish quarrel. He didn’t want to embarrass the boy more than he probably already was. “I know this might be sudden, but could you please come with me? I’m supposed to show you your new room and I’d like to do so now, since I’ll be rather occupied later.”

Lance felt his sudden nerves sooth as he listened to Shiro’s smooth voice; It was like he was listening to some damn fine ASMR.

Because of this, he didn’t react the nanosecond Shiro stopped speaking, and so, Pidge spoke for him, devilish grin on their face. “Of course, he’ll come with you! He’s just done eating too!”  
When Lance opened his mouth to counter that, Pidge quickly shot him a glare flowers could wilt from. “Right, I’m done eating anyway!” Lance squeaked out as he quickly stood up, pleading Hunk to help him some way. Hunk shrugged, giving him a thumbs up and a big smile.  
‘Traitors’ he mouthed as he got pushed along by a hand on his shoulder.

It burned, in a good way.

When they walked by the table Shiro had been sitting at, Keith wasn’t even looking at him, concentrating on his plate of fries and occasionally looking up as someone talked to him. Lance just wanted to ignore the other boy, but wait- was that a smirk he was seeing? What’s that mullet got to laugh abou-

“C’mon now Lance, the sooner I show you your room, the sooner you can get settled in and go back to find your friends. And like I said, I have a meeting to attend later this evening.”

Shiro’s voice shook him out of his silent reverie, and Lance quickly realized he’d slowed down, staring at Keith as he did.  
He quickly turned away from the dark-haired boy, facing Shiro once again. The man was standing next to the exit, calm smile still on his face and hand holding the door ope- Wait, what happened to his arm?! Why does he have a robot arm?! It looks alien almost? Why didn’t he notice it before? It’s so cool! Ah! Don’t stare, that’s impolite!

Lance could momentarily see behind Shiro’s calm smile, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes a dead giveaway; he was clearly amused by Lance’s antics.  
Face red and feeling hotter each step he took towards the man, Lance quickly walked by him, feeling electric as dark eyes seemed to follow his movements. _Oh, dearie, this is going to be a long trip._

They walked next to each other in silence; not an awkward silence per se, but also not necessarily a comfortable one. It’s a silence filled with unanswered questions. Lance looked at his feet as they trotted through the hallways, occasionally looking sideways when he thought Shiro wasn’t looking. He couldn’t look for too long of course, but from what he could see, his first impression of Shiro wasn’t wrong.

The man was hot.  
Strong jawline, strong build, strong eyes, strong- a very strong everything really. But there’s more to him than that. There’s the sweetness Lance can see when he smiles, an evident kindness and politeness in the way he speaks and Lance could easily tell Shiro was a good person, just like he’d read in all those articles.

A handsome gentleman.

But he’s changed since he disappeared.

The most prominent changes were the white hair, of course. He could’ve dyed it, but Lance had a gut feeling which told him it wasn’t that simple, there was a story behind it, just like the scar and the robotic arm.  
That’s not all that’s different, though, something in the way Shiro carries himself has changed too. His steps are light, his eyes alert, body tense in case something could jump out and at him from any corner or open door. His eyes, despite their sweetness, are filled with something dark and heavy.

Shiro’s been through something while he was away in space and it changed him. Just like the new world had changed Lance.

The older man felt Lance’s staring and caught the boy’s gaze, smiling as Lance blushed and looked away. “Well, since we’ve still got a while, let’s talk a little. I’ve heard from Pidge you wanted to go to the Garrison when you were younger; how come?”

It wasn’t a surprise to Lance that the two knew each other, since Pidge’s brother, Matt, was a good friend of Shiro and was part of his team when they went to space together. Plus, if Pidge really knew about his soulmates all this time, then, of course, she’d find a way to befriend them or at least get to know them.  
  
Lance shrugged. “Well, it uh….”

Oh shit.

How should Lance say this, so he doesn’t sound like a complete obsessed maniac?

‘Hey, my fourteen/fifteen-year-old punk-self used to look you up and stalk your social media like an obsessed fangirl, thus knowing your favorite food is ravioli, you don’t have any siblings and -oh, look at that, you work at the Garrison!  
So, originally, I wanted to join the organization, so I could stalk you in real life, but as I researched it I discovered I really like the idea of being a pilot. It was just killing two birds with one stone! Not creepy at all!’

No. He can’t say that at a-

“So that’s how it is, then.”

Lance stopped in his tracks, breath caught in his throat and thoughts racing. He slowly turned his head around only to see a widely grinning Shiro and winced. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but don’t worry, you muttering to yourself is very cute.” Shiro smiled, and began walking through the hallway again, leaving a very flustered and red Lance to catch up.  
_...His soulmate said he was cute._

Shiro looked back over his shoulder as Lance shook himself out of his daydream and ran up to him, still bright red.  
“So, I initiated your interest in the Garrison, but then why didn’t you enroll? Your friends, Hunk and Pidge are here, they’re in our database, enlisted to be actual students before the apocalypse came to exist. Why aren’t you?”

Lance smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “I did try to get in, but I wasn’t accepted. Too reckless and brash when trying to fly and just all in all a bad pilot. I didn’t even get to be a cargo pilot…  
The only reason I came to Plahta was to see my friends and sister off to the Garrison, and then I’d be back on my way… Or that was the plan at least.”

Shiro’s expression went grim, realizing that that was probably the time the Galra had descended on earth and Lance grimaced at the memories himself; the outbreak of the apocalypse was not something he liked thinking about.

But he did, he just suddenly did. It was as if just Shiro’s presence tore the words out of Lance’s mouth. He stared at his feet as he continued, feeling Shiro watching him. “I got separated from Hunk and Pidge and also from my family. Apparently, they all did make it to the Garrison, after all.”  
An airy chuckle left him, it felt empty. “I spent about two years alone after that in a little cabin, people were just as bad as the zombies and robots, if not worse. Food was scarce… I found the train when I was running from zombies. When I discovered it was from the Garrison and they’d come every three months, I saw a way to survive. So yeah, I stole. I’m not proud of it, but I would do it again if necessary…”

Shiro hummed, and before Lance even realized what the older man was doing, he felt a warm hand ruffling his hair. “You’ve sure been through a lot. I don’t blame you at all. I probably would’ve done the same, especially after seeing the Organization go down the way you did, losing everything; I’d also assume staying on your own is the best way to survive.”

Lance felt something crack inside him.

_I need to be careful. I can't get emotional like that again._

Quickly wiping his eyes, he ducked out from under Shiro’s soft hand and grinned up at the older man, eyebrows lifted playfully. _Put up your walls_. “Now that I’ve shared some of my crappy and emotional feelings, it’s your turn to spill some secrets, old man. I have questions too!”

Shiro’s eye twitched as he let his arm drop and Lance walked past him. “Old man, you say… I’m only twenty-five!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know when I'll update again. I've already mapped out the plot and ending of this fic, but I still have to write it and, unfortunately, that takes a lot of time, so yeah, sorry.
> 
> I do hope you're all still enjoying this! And I also hope that the pacing of the story is okay, since that's my biggest fear right now XD.
> 
>  
> 
> Be sure to leave a kudos or a comment if you liked it! it feeds my soul XD


	7. Waking between stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Sorry this took so long. Again.  
> Next chapter is going to be fun to write, though ;D
> 
> However, It might take a while, since I'm also working on another story -sorry, not sorry- and school will start again soon, so yeahh.
> 
> Enjoy!

Lance felt happy.

He’d met his hero, the man he’s been looking up to and admiring for years now. Shiro was his inspiration, someone Lance aspired to be when he grew up.

He’d asked Shiro so many questions, questions he’s wanted to ask for so long, things he’d wondered since he’d been little. Why did Shiro decide to join the Garrison? Had he always been that good a pilot? Why did he like flying? What had inspired him to fly?

The boy just couldn’t seem to shut up, seeing the man in the flesh and actually being able to talk to him was exhilarating.

He’d avoided questions about Keith, or anything about soulmates, really; same with the man’s disappearance into space five years ago. Lance admired Shiro, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he put the man on a pedestal, wanted to be like him. But that’s it. Personal business wasn’t his business, or he at least would make sure it wasn’t.

Even though he himself had nearly blabbed everything to Shiro.

Lance was pretty sure that was just the Soulmate connection pushing him to trust and confide in his other half, but even so, he won’t let that happen again.  

They were standing in front of his new room now, the room he’d wanted when he was but a mere thirteen years old.

“If you have any questions, more questions” Shiro huffed, amused, “or if you have any problems adjusting to the Garrison, you can always come to me, okay? You’re welcome whenever.” The words were accompanied by a gentle smile, Shiro catching his eyes and conveying his honesty and sincerity.

Lance nodded as he promised himself he’d never do that. “Of course, thank you very much! For answering my stupid questions and pointing me to my room and all.”

Shiro laughed, “No problem, Lance, it was fun, I’d happily do it again. Though I really need to get going, now. Good luck tomorrow with your new job!” The man patted Lance shoulder, lingering for a few seconds before giving him a light squeeze and turning to leave.

“Yeah, you too!” Lance answered belatedly and immediately cringed as he heard Shiro laugh and turn the corner.

“You too? Seriously? As if you hadn’t embarrassed yourself enough already, you just had to say the most awkward thing in the history of most awkward things to say…” Lance facepalmed and walked inside his new room, muttering angrily to himself.

His room was bare and empty. The walls were an off-white, a single bed and bedside table standing on the right wall, small closet on the left. It was definitely made for one person, seeing as the room would be way too small to hold more than one person. He had a bathroom, not all too big, but it had a shower and that’s all that mattered to Lance. He already had a shower this morning, but the promise of another one was heavenly.  
The cupboard held a brand-new toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream, etc.

His backpack laid next to his bed, and as he opened to examine it, he noticed all the food and weapons were gone.  
Only the bag was left, with all its bloodstains and holes. At least there was something left of the life he lived before the Garrison.

Lance pushed the bag under his bed, dismissing it and quickly throwing himself on top of the soft cushions.  
He was tired, bones heavy. He didn’t really want to go back to the cafeteria, not having had any time for himself to try and process everything that has happened to him the last three days.  
Yesterday he spent the whole day with his family, even his grandparents had come to visit him. The day before that he’d been captured and then been unconscious for almost 24 hours. And today, he’d spent the whole day with his friends.... Oh God he had his friends back. he was so happy they were okay. So happy they weren’t zombies.

He hadn’t wanted to talk about how he was doing, or had been doing, or what it was like living in the zombie apocalypse for three years, all alone.  
Lance wanted to make fun, wanted things to be like they used to be, wanted to forget everything he experienced outside this dome.  
The despair, hurt and betrayal.

Pissing your pants as the first zombie slammed you into the ground isn’t something you want to tell your friends. You don’t want to tell them that the first nights alone were terrifying, how you didn’t sleep for at least a week. You don’t want to tell them how hunger could make you do awful things.

He wasn’t the only one being betrayed. The end of that first year, when he decided he couldn’t trust people, when he decided he would no longer let others steal from him-

He’d decided to steal from others.

This only lasted about a month, but it was enough. Enough for some man to notice him stealing and try to kill him. Lance couldn’t get away. He had to make a choice.  
Him or some random man.  
A man with a golden ring around his ring finger and a photo of his kids inside his breast pocket.  

Lance still feels the heavy weight of guilt bearing down on him to this day.

No, he wasn’t going to tell his friends that. His friends that he only got back today and who knew almost nothing of the world outside.

Lance's vision was blurring, all those confused feelings bubbling up to the surface and he buried his head in his pillow, body suddenly wracked with sobs.

He was so happy.

But also so confused and scared.

He had everything back, but he’d gotten so used to having nothing.

~*~

The shack creaked as the storm raged outside, hail falling from the skies and wind howling louder than Lance had ever heard. It was deafening, but not as much as his panic.

Lance was back. How was he back? Where is everyone? Did they decide he was worthless after all? That they didn’t want him?

“Veronica? Mom? Hunk?!”

Darkness crept through the wood of the house, taking away the light and sticking to his feet, like blood in the middle of drying up. “Pidge?!”

The house was creaking like crazy, fighting against the wind, rain beating into it. Darkness was filling the room. It was reaching for him, whispering memories. _Cold._  
“Don’t leave me alone again!” Screaming, Lance tore himself away from the dark, running for the door and slamming his shoulder into it. The door flew open easily and Lance fell face-first onto the ground. He didn’t mind, so long as he wasn’t in that wretched house again.    
Looking up slowly, Lance noticed there wasn’t any rain or hail beating down on him, no wind tugging on his hair and clothes, just a lot of noise.

Moans, Lance realized. The howling wasn’t wind.

It was the sound of rotting corpses.

They were scattered all over the desert, some slamming themselves into the shack he’d been living in, others wandering further. They all stopped as they noticed him lying there, groaning and creaking as they turned their lifeless heads towards him. Dead eyes. Dozens of them, all people he used to know.

His mom, Marco, Veronica, dad, his cousins, Pidge, Hunk… He couldn’t- he didn’t…

Lance ran away. The sound of footsteps right behind him.

“Shiro!” He yelled, “Someone!”

Looking back, though, he whimpered, as his soulmate’s dead eyes looked into his.

He slammed into something and he went tumbling to the ground, screaming as its hands quickly came up to grab him. Teeth snapped in front of his face as he tried to push it away; kicking, scratching and punching, screaming for help. Empty eyes. The sharp taste of copper.  
Another zombie tackled him, slamming him up against the wall.

Lance’s breath was speeding up even more now, the world tilting as he tried to fight the thing off. Worst-case scenarios entering his head and taking over. He didn’t want to die!

“Lance! Snap out of it! You’re safe! Wake up!”

“Stop, please!”

Hands grabbed his face, forcing Lance to look in front of him, to look straight into the zombie’s face-

…  
The face in front of him wasn’t a zombie. It wasn’t rotting, nor were its eyes empty, instead a sharp violet was looking back at him.

“K-Keith? Is that you?”

Keith, seeing Lance finally come to his senses, nodded and smiled, though it was obviously strained. “Yeah, I’m here. You’re okay, nothing is going to hurt you here.”

Lance was panting as he looked around him. He was in a hallway… somewhere. Some people were looking at him, mostly adults in suits still. He wasn’t in the sleeping quarters anymore. “W-what happened?”

Someone behind Keith stood up, rubbing their bloody nose. “You fucker! You start attacking me out of nowhere and now you’re saying you don’t remember what happened! You can’t think that-“

Keith pushed the night guard further back, resisting the urge to bare his teeth. “Stop yelling, you idiot! If you hadn’t figured it out yet, he’s from the Outside, only came in a few days ago. So, I advise you to let it. The fuck. Go.”

The man narrowed his eyes and huffed in disbelieve, shaking his head as he left them in the hall. Keith glance to the side, people were still watching them. They quickly began to scatter when Keith leveled them with a glare and he focused his attention back on Lance. The boy was silent, gaze empty and glassy. Frowning, he took the other boy’s arm and put it around his shoulder, carrying a large part of the other’s weight. “C’mon, let’s get you somewhere quiet.”

~*~

Keith quickly put Lance onto their couch, bundling the blue-eyed boy up in his favorite blanket to keep him warm. Still out of it, Lance lets him.

He could feel himself sweating buckets, his hands were shaking and he couldn’t get a grip on his thoughts. His vision was still blurring, everything was just blocks of color as he looked around the room. He was having an anxiety attack right now, or at least the aftermath of one, he couldn’t tell, nerves too fried. The only reason he was able to remain in control of his breathing right now, was probably Keith. His presence was calming; a natural effect Soulmates had on each other.

“Here, I got you some water, drink it.” Keith said as he gingerly sat down next to the shaking boy.  
Slow movements, calm voice, soft features. Shiro said these things help when coming down from a panic attack.  
Trembling, Lance took the glass, sipping from it before giving it back. “Thank you, for snapping me out of… Whatever that was… But I should be getting back now.” Lance exclaimed, moving to stand up… Only to get dizzy and pulled down by gravity. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, or at least not now. You can leave when you don’t look on the verge of death anymore.” Keith rationalized, looking at Lance’s pale, haunted face.

Lance was ready to argue against that since, he always looked fabulous and nothing like how Keith just described him, but before he could a wave of nausea overtook him full force.  
“I think I might throw up” Lance murmured, holding his stomach and Keith got the bucket which he’d set ready next to the couch. “Here.”

Lance gagged, threw up, looked at what used to be a delicious hamburger and set the bucket down with an exhausted sigh. Keith gave him the glass of water back and he accepted it, trying to drink away the acrid smell in his mouth and burning sensation in his throat.  
The smell coming from the bucket was horrible. Still, neither of them moved. They sat in silence for a minute, Lance looking dazedly at his hands. His hands were clammy, as was the rest of him; he wished he could take a shower. He sneaked a glance at Keith who was also staring at Lance’s hands, frowning.

Lance wanted to ask what was wrong when he realized Keith was looking at the cuffs around his wrist, and the bandages beneath them. He closed his mouth.  
Cuffs were only needed when you didn’t know your soulmate, yet. Often times, when people met their soulmate, they would quickly get to know each other, get intimate and touch each other’s mark. It would complete the bond and the mark wouldn’t feel so sensitive anymore.

Lance quickly covered it within the blanket he was cocooned in.

“What can I do to help?” Keith asked, dragged back out of his thoughts by Lance’s movement.  
Keith didn’t know yet how Lance dealt with these situations.  
Shiro sometimes liked to be held, but sometimes he just wanted someone to sit next to him, not touching, just talking. It often depended on the moment and how the other person felt. “I- Just stay… there. Talk about something else.” Lance’s silent reply came. “Like… Um… Why were those people scared of you? Aren’t you just an, uh, normal cadet?”

Keith cleared his throat, looking off to the side. “I _am_ just a simple cadet. Guess people are just… Ugh, I don’t know, scared of me?”

Lance narrowed his eyes, something about how Keith said that… It sounded like he was holding something back… But that wasn’t Lance’s business, as he’d stated before. If Keith doesn’t want to tell him- fine, that goes onto the list of personal business which he’ll never ask about again.  
“I see, well you sure do have that Gringe kinda aesthetic, leaving away the fact that you’re not green.” Lance said, trying to lighten the mood, even managing to smile a little despite his condition.

Keith huffed, offended and slightly amused. “Thanks, I try.”

The silence returned and with that the awkwardness. Lance couldn’t leave, but he wasn’t really ready to just go and take a nap on his Soulmate’s couch like it was nothing. Should he fill the silence? Talk away the awkwardness?  
But wouldn’t that mean getting friendly with Keith?

With Shiro, he can let himself go a little; he’s looked up to the man for years, it’s nothing more than some random kid talking to his hero, but Keith… He doesn’t know Keith at all. They’d only be talking because they’re soulmates and Lance doesn’t want that…

No, what _does_ he want exactly…? Isn’t he just making excuses?

He hasn’t rejected his soulmates, his mark hasn’t faded on their arms and theirs hadn’t on his. His soul hasn’t rejected them… yet he keeps on acting like it has.

Because he’s a coward.

Keith shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to Lance. He should say something, he really should. He had to let Lance know he was welcome here, that he could relax; it was part of the plan he’d made up after all… when he’d been stupidly drunk, and had a lot more self-confidence than usual. Why did he say stupid shit when he was drunk? Why couldn’t he talk to others like a normal human being? And where is Shiro when you need him?

Keith almost jumped off the couch as he realized that, he didn’t necessarily need to talk. He isn’t good with words, but he often talked more via his deeds than he did with words anyway.

“Can you walk?” Keith asked as he inspected Lance. The boy had been startled by his voice, having been deep in thought. Lance stuttered as he looked at his hands and back to Keith, wondering what he was planning. “y-yeah I think so.”  
Lance looked a little better, color returning to his face, though he did look tired.

And as Keith had mentioned, still on edge.

Had Shiro felt it? Lance’s fear? He probably had. Strong emotions could sometimes also make it through the bond when the Soulmate felt overpowered or overwhelmed. Just like he could now probably feel that Keith and Lance were in each other’s company, soothing each other’s nerves. Probably the only reason why he wasn’t storming the halls yet and abandoning his meeting.  
Keith couldn’t leave Lance. He knew his presence had a calming effect on the other boy because of him being his Soulmate and all. If he left, he might trigger another episode.

Keith thought back to this evening, when he’d pushed Shiro to go and escort Lance to his room. Normally that had been Veronica’s job, but since she was just as sly as he was, she easily agreed to let Shiro do it, seeing through him like a glass window. He had been happy to see Lance’s smile directed at their older Soulmate. How relaxed he was when walking next to Shiro, while still buzzing with barely contained excitement.

He wished Shiro was here, he’d do this so much better than Keith ever could.

Still though, Shiro wasn’t here and it wasn’t enough that Keith could bring Lance back from a panic attack, Lance had to rest and since Keith couldn’t leave, he had to make Lance relax enough in his presence.

And he thinks he knows how to.

He stood up, holding out his hand for the other boy to take.  
Lance stared at it for a little while, hesitant, but eventually freed his hand from the bundle of blankets and accepted the help. “Where are we going?”

Keith smirked. “You’ll see. I promise it’s nothing weird, you’ll like it.”

Lance frowned, squeezing the blankets tighter around himself. “You don’t sound very convincing there, buddy. That’s almost the exact same thing someone would say when the place they were going to was in fact, weird.”

Keith smirked as they left the little apartment. “You speaking out of experience?”

Lance cleared his throat, averting his gaze. “No.”

Keith _hmmd_ before he gently took Lance’s sleeve between his fingers and softly pulled. “Well let’s go then, shall we?” and as Keith led him through multiple hallways, neither of them said anything. It wasn’t as awkward as before, since now they were walking and had something to do, but it was still uncomfortable and Lance was desperately trying to find something to say. 

They stopped, Keith pushing a blue button after which a door opened and a ding could be heard. “An elevator? Are we going further down or something? Do you have some secret bat cave you didn’t tell me about? Stuffed with spy equipment and a batmobile?”

Keith rolled his eyes as they stepped in, though the hint of a smile could be seen, threatening to spill. “We’re going up, smartass.”

Pushing the top button, the doors closed and the lift began moving. Now, Lance was curious. Top floor? Was he going to the floor where all the important people were working or something? Why would Keith want to show him that?

The doors opened and Keith once again tugged his sleeve. “C’mon, let’s go.”

It was Lance’s turn to roll his eyes this time. “Calm down, lightning McQueen, jeez.”

Keith glanced at the boy next to him, not able to help himself as he raised his brow. “Do you only speak in sass, or…?”

Lance shrugged. “I’m sass reincarnated. Get used to it, tough guy.”   

Keith rolled his eyes, but Lance didn’t see it as the other boy had already stepped out of the elevator. Lance followed and watched Keith make a right turn to where a staircase went even further up. “We’re sure going a long way for- something, you didn’t even tell me what.” Lance exclaimed as he stood idling before the stairs. It wasn’t that much up, but he was tired, physically, he didn’t want to do much exercise at the moment.

“It is, just hold on a little longer?” Keith eyed the stairs for a little before he smirked, knowingly looking at his Soulmate. “Or do you want me to carry you up the stairs? You only need to say and I’ll-“

Lance brushed by the smirking boy, head high and blankets firmly around him. “NOPE! No thanks! don’t need your help, Mullet!”

Keith smirk disappeared off his face as he watched Lance climb the stairs, shaking his head as he frowned. “It’s not a Goddamn mullet; my hair’s fine!”

Lance ignored the guy as he opened the door before him.

Cool air hit his face, ruffling his hair and blankets. Lance took a deep breath. Wow, did that do wonders.

He was standing on the roof of the building, a few ventilators to his right. When he looked to the left, however, his breath caught in his throat and his blankets fell to the ground.

There was the usual night sky, stars shining brightly with a crescent moon hanging there in the distance. That wasn’t the best part of it though, Lance thought as he went to the edge of the roof. The best part was the _lights_ , the tiny lights within the dome shining in the darkness. Lights of tall buildings, moving cars, street lights.

It reminded him of civilization. Cities, long lost to the Galra and zombies.

He hadn’t seen anything like this in three years. It was so mesmerizing that he didn’t even notice the tears falling down his face until a handkerchief was extended to him by a long arm. Looking away from the lights, he saw Keith standing slightly behind him, silently handing out the handkerchief while looking away. As if not wanting to intrude, but still wanting to be helpful.

Lance almost wanted to tease Keith about the blush he was carrying on his cheeks, but decided against it. Accepting the hankie with a quiet thanks and wiping away the tears on his face while facing the shining lights once again.

“Thank you.” He whispered again and he could almost imagine Keith’s quiet head nod. Strange, how he has only known Keith for three days and technically spent less than five hours with him and still he knows. Knows Keith won’t talk so Lance can fully enjoy the moment, lose himself in the lights and dark sky.

About twenty minutes later, he finally decided to break the silence.

“Is this your edgy place?” he asked, smirk hidden by him facing away from Keith.

The other boy was caught by surprise, not expecting the sudden break in silence. “Huh?”

Lance shrugged. “I mean, do you come here to pine and think about everything that’s wrong in the world? Pine about the fact that you’ll probably never eat a Kit Kat ever again? Or ever play video games? Or oh, the worst; that Wikipedia is forever gone?”

Stifled laughter filled Lance’s ears and he turned around in shock, almost missing the part where Keith looked away and straightened his face. “I made you laugh! I made mister grumpy laugh!”

“It was a cough.” The other reasoned.

“No it wasn’t! I saw it! I saw the corner of your lips going up!”

Keith suddenly smirked as he lifted his brows and canted his head, looking in all ways, like an arrogant douche. “You have any proof then?”

Lance frowned. “Huh?”

“Proof, like a picture or a recording.” Keith said.

Lance shook his head. “That’s not fair, that’s so not fair.”

Keith shrugged. “That’s life, and since you don’t have it. I didn’t laugh.”

Lance’s brow twitched. “And people say I’m annoying?”

Keith sighed, but lance still saw the smile in his eyes as the other guy shook his head. “Are you done? Can we go back in? I’m freezing.”

“You want your little blankie back? You only should’ve said so.” Lance snickered as he went back and picked up the blanket he’d dropped, extending it towards Keith, who just stepped right passed him and back inside. “Oh, don’t be so cold! You showed me this beautiful night sky and now you’re going to ignore me?” Lance asked as he followed Keith inside.

Keith muttered something under his breath as he pushed the button for the elevator. Lance felt renewed again, like he suddenly had all this energy with no way to go.

So, when he stepped into the elevator with Keith, he quickly swatted away the other’s hand and pressed the button which would lead to the first floor.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked, eyeing Lance with uncertainty.

He grinned. “I want to… test something.” he said, and Keith’s frown deepened at those words. “Test what?”

The elevator door opened once again with a soft ‘ding’ and Lance eagerly stepped out. He turned on his heels when he didn’t hear Keith follow, still standing in the doorway of the elevator.

He grinned.

“I want to go outside the dome.”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter :)


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